


All Bad Ideas Start Somewhere

by Whynotitsfun



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Finally Resolved sexual Tension, Gen, Romance, Warning: Epilogue confirms some previously Implied MCD., Warning: Last Chapter has Minor Character death and implies possible Major Char Death, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:05:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whynotitsfun/pseuds/Whynotitsfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I felt Bass needed a good reason to come up with such a horrible plan in New Vegas, so I decided to give him one. Sorry if it seems like I'm Charlie hatin'. I'm not really, but I also couldn't fathom another reason as to why she would sleep with Connor. Sorry, but there's just something about that boy that rubs me the wrong way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this is going somewhere or if I’ll leave it as a oneshot. Needless to say, I found the diamond theft to be too Ocean’s Eleven-ish to not be borne of some type of absolute desperation. So, I decided to write a reason for that much desperation. One would think if the plan had been to go buy mercenaries, that they’d have brought money with them, and that the casino heist was just a last minute plan. I decided to make it very last minute, and I admit it – I am a Charloe girl. Call it a guilty pleasure lol. I hope you enjoy! ** Update, obviously, this is no longer a oneshot :-)

Bass walked with purpose through New Vegas. His meeting with Duncan had not gone as well as expected, but he supposed it could have gone worse. At least she hadn't had her clansmen shoot him on sight. And, with the way he'd broken off their relationship, it had been a possibility. But her anger had obviously not quite cooled. Thirty diamonds a head? It was unreasonable and they both knew it. 

He made his way to the outskirts of town, avoiding the curious glances from a few of the gamblers and whores he'd become acquainted with during his previous stay here. He'd already overheard some of the gossip that his return had generated. A lot of it centered on the fact that Charlie had come with him. A few people had noticed her in town shortly before he'd disappeared. The buzz was that he'd left with her. Charlie’s having accompanying them had seemed like a bad idea from the get go. It only seemed worse now. She was definitely a distraction, and Bass knew that her presence had something to do with the high price Duncan demanded. 

He wasn't even sure why she'd come. After their last encounter outside Willoughby he'd been sure she would avoid him like the plague.

The night before their journey:

_Bass walks along the back side of the barn. There was a small brook in the woods behind the structure, and he'd taken the rare opportunity to bathe in it. It seemed like it was the first time in weeks he'd been able to get clean. If he had to pick one thing from the old world that he missed the most, it would probably be showers. He was tired of feeling filthy all of the time. His hair is still dripping as he walks, shirt in hand. There is a chill in the air, but having spent so many years in Philly, the early fall air in Texas is nothing to him. He turns the corner at the end of the barn, and damn near walks right into Charlie._

_"What are you doing out here?" As he speaks, he watches her look him up and down. She smiles her appreciation, making no effort to disguise that she's checking him out. Not speaking, she just continues to smile up at him. She's making him uncomfortable, so he goes to walk around her. She shifts, once more blocking his way. After two more attempts to get past her, he realizes that he can either pick her up and move her, or find out what she wants. And with the way she is looking at him, touching her in any way does not seem a viable option._

_With a sigh, he leans as casually as possible against the side of the barn. "Need something?" He tries to sound nonchalant but in reality his heart is pounding in his chest._

_She takes a step forward. "You could say that," and then she makes her move. She presses herself up against him and stands up on her toes, capturing his lips with her own. She is suddenly everywhere - grabbing, pulling, surrounding him. He lets her take the lead for a few minutes, but he knows he has to take control of this. If he doesn't, he could lose himself. Dropping his shirt, he cups her face with one hand, and spins her with the other. His lips never leave hers as he turns. The end result is that now it is Charlie’s back pressed up against the barn. He is more comfortable in the lead now, but his traitorous body responds to her, and there is now hiding the fact that he wants her._

_Charlie’s intent becomes clear as she unwinds her arms from around his neck and reaches for the waistband of his pants. He can't believe was he's about to do, but he suddenly breaks off their kiss and grabs her hands, to stop her. Their foreheads are touching, as he draws in an unsteady breath. "Charlie, stop." She can tell he's hard for her, and will not be denied. She makes another attempt to reach for him, as she kisses him again. He grips her wrists more firmly now. "Wait a second. What are you doing?" He says against her lips._

_"Come on, Monroe. You know you want this as much as I do. I've seen the way you watch me," she pants. She twists her wrists to free herself, desperate to touch him._

_He shakes his head and takes a step back. Resisting her advances takes all of his willpower. "Not like this."_

_Charlie sober instantly. Her chest heaves as she stares at him, bewildered. "What? What do you mean?"_

_He looks at her longingly. "I'm not going to fuck you on the side of a barn like a whore." He doesn't expect to woo her with flowers and romance but he'll be damned if he treats her like the women that troll the alleys of New Vegas. Not her. She deserves better than that. And, he'd like to think despite everything, he deserves better than that._

_She reacts like his words slap her. "Did you just call me a whore?"_

Aw hell, _he thinks to himself. He steps forward, and brushes a strand of hair off her face gently. "You know that I didn't, and that I don't think that. And I want you, but not like this."_

_She knows exactly what he's trying to say to her. But she doesn't want to hear it. She shakes his head at him. She can't bring herself to let it be more, mean something. There is too much between them. It would mean letting go of the past. Appealing to his lust one last time she looks at him with one eyebrow raised, "Well, what if this is the only way you can have me?"_

_It's his turn to feel slapped. He knows what she's doing, and it's cruel. It's an ultimatum, and they both know it. She's thrown down the gauntlet, and as much as he wants her, he refuses to pick that gauntlet up. "Then I guess I can't have you at all then."_

_Expressionless, she walks off. He knows she is seething. She probably feels rejected, embarrassed. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to go after her. But he won't relent. As she rounds the next corner, he picks up his shirt, and then turns around, walking back the way he came. He runs into Miles on the way back to the brook._

_"Where the hell are you going?" Miles asks. He can tell Bass is mad about something._

_Frustrated, Bass snaps at him. "I'm going for a swim."_

_Miles notices Bass’ wet hair and the shirt he's holding. "Didn't you already -?"_

_Bass cuts Miles off as he walks past. “Yes!"_

_"Bass that waters got to be like fifty degrees," Miles says to Bass' retreating back._

_“I know!" He calls out behind him, as he heads back to take a post blackout version of a cold shower. That girl is going to be the death of him._

Back in New Vegas: 

He shakes his head at the memory of that night, he was still able to feel her touch, and wills the feeling away. They've got too many problems for him to be distracted by her. He came with a hundred and fifty diamonds hoping to pay ten a head. He needs to come up with the balance somehow. It will take him a month of boxing to come up with that, if they took into account the cost of living for three people here. And that would be without losing a match. Miles was going to kill him if they stayed that long but he couldn't see a way around it. He'd talk to Gould in the morning. For now, he just wanted to catch up with Charlie and Connor and set up camp for the night. They'd find better accommodations tomorrow. In the meantime, he was hoping to pull Charlie aside. They needed to talk, fix things- especially if they were going to be stuck here for a while. 

God he wished she hadn't come. This would have been so less complicated. He didn’t realize how less complicated until he came up on them both. It seemed they'd already set up a camp of sorts. As he approached he could not believe how he found them. "Oh come on, you have got to be kidding me!" Bass saw red. He turned around, counted to ten and did his best to calm down. "Get dressed," He finally said.

Although it was lost on Connor, Charlie picked up a hint of the hurt in his voice. She tried to keep her voice level. She didn't want Connor to know that something had happened between her and his father. "Listen," she began, as she pulled on her pants.

He didn't want to hear it, especially in front of Connor. "Just get dressed," He said wearily as he walked away.

 _What have I done?_ She thought to herself as she watched him retreat. She glanced at Connor. He seemed completely unaware of the tension between his father and her. She was suddenly very grateful he had not inherited his father's uncanny skills at reading people. 

_What the fuck?_ He thought as he waited for Connor and Charlie to get dressed and join him. _How could she do this? What the hell is the matter with her?_ Well, if she'd set out to hurt him, the win went to Charlie. She’d definitely succeeded. He concentrated on calming down as he came up with plan B. He was not going to spend the next several weeks getting pounded for the cause while she spent the next few weeks getting pounded by his son. He needed a way to get what they came for faster so they could hurry up and get back. He needed to get away from her. Shoving his hurt deep inside, he came up with what he saw as the only other alternative. If earning the diamonds was now out of the question, they'd just have to steal them. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add to the story. This is what happens after the foiled diamond heist.

Charlie sat sullenly in the back of the wagon. Bass sat across from her, facing her but refusing to look at her. Occasionally he winced when the wagon hit a rough patch of road. He was still sporting a broken rib from his time in captivity in New Vegas. He hadn’t spoken a word to Charlie or Connor since their escape. Charlie turned her head to look up at Connor and Duncan on the bench at the front of the wagon. Connor held the reigns loosely in his hands as he chatted about anything and everything to Duncan. She could tell from Duncan’s posture that the warlord (warlady?) wasn’t really listening to a word he was saying. _Doesn’t he ever shut up?_ Charlie thought to herself. At first she thought he just talked a lot around her because he was nervous and trying to impress her. Now she realized he just talked a lot in general. 

She looked back over at Bass. He was leaning up against the side of the wagon, doing his best to look asleep. She damn well knew he was still awake. She’d slept near him on the road enough times to be able to tell when he was sleeping, -- not that she’d ever seen him sleep for very long or very deeply. He was making sure to avoid any attempt she might make at conversation _This is going to be a very long trip._

She mimicked his position, knowing he’d take it as her calling him out on pretending to sleep. She watched him under her lashes, to see him frown slightly. Yep, he’d noticed. _Good._ As she watched him, she reflected back on their escape from New Vegas. 

**_Five days prior:_ **

_Charlie waits at the rendezvous point for several hours before she realizes that Bass and Connor are not coming. She doubles back, carefully making her way back to town. She keeps her head down and keeps to the shadows, knowing that if she runs into any of Gould’s men, she will be recognized on the spot. She knows that Bass will be pissed if he finds out she didn’t follow the contingency plan and escape back to Willoughby. But, she needs to find out for herself what has happened to them._

_She hears a gun cock behind her. “Turn around slowly, girl,” the voice behind her says. She puts her hands up, and turns to face the owner of the voice. She is expecting to see one of Gould’s men. Instead, she sees one of the guards that was with Duncan Page earlier. “Duncan has been expecting you to show up in town. She wants to see you.”_

_“Well, I’ve got places to be. I don’t want to see her.” Charlie just wants to find out what’s going on and get back. The last thing she wants to do is see Duncan. First of all, if she hadn’t set such a high price for her men, Charlie wouldn’t be in this mess now. Second of all, she knows that there is some type of romantic history between Duncan and Bass. With everything so broken between herself and Bass, she doesn’t want to talk to his former lover._

_“Well, if you’re trying to find out what happened to Monroe and the kid, you might want to hear her out.” The guard lowers his gun and gestures for her to follow him. He leads her to an old shack on the outskirts of town. She enters to find Duncan Page lounging on and old couch, a drink in her hand._

_“Well if it isn’t Sebastian’s little plaything. Took you long enough to figure out something went wrong.” Duncan looks her up and down as she speaks, sizing her up. Her perusal makes Charlie uncomfortable, like Duncan is trying to decide if she’s useful or just competition._

_Charlie takes no time getting right to the chase, “Where’s Monroe and Connor?” She doesn’t want to spend any more time with this woman than she needs to. Charlie just wants to find out what happened and get out. If they’re in trouble she needs to either hurry up and get Miles or find a way to rescue their sorry asses – if they are even still alive._

_“Word is, Gould caught the boxer formerly known as Jimmy King and his little helper trying to make off with his diamonds,” Duncan began._

_“By formerly, do you mean --?” Charlie can’t finish the sentence. The thought of him being dead makes her taste bile._

_“Dead? No, not yet anyways. But his identity is now common knowledge.” Duncan notices the relief wash over Charlie’s features. Sebastian had told her that he meant nothing to the girl, but she couldn’t help but notice that she’d seemed more concerned about Sebastian than the young man she now knew was his son._

_“Really? And how did Gould find that out?” Charlie was suspicious. As far as she knows, the only person in town outside of herself and Connor that knew Bass’ real identity was Duncan herself._

_“It wasn’t me, if that’s what you’re implying. And I’d watch it if I were you, especially if you want my help in getting them out. Word is a little red, white and blue birdie let Gould in on his secret. Word also is that Gould has made a few deals with these patriot assholes.” Duncan almost spits out Gould’s name. Otherwise, Duncan is all cool, collected. It seems that she is not very happy with this Gould guy._

_“He’s in league with the patriots? Well that complicates things, doesn’t it?” Charlie is starting to have her doubts about leaving the area alive. “So where is he keeping them?”_

_Duncan rises to pour herself another drink. Turning her back to Charlie now, she indicates she does not consider Charlie a threat. “There’s a warehouse on the other side of town. He uses it as a venue for what you might call special events. The patriots want Sebastian dead, again from what I hear. Gould is going to put them in a cage match.” Duncan turns back around now, two drinks in hand. Handing one to Charlie, she leans back to read how she is handling that bit of information._

_Charlie is confused. She is still new to the world of New Vegas. “What is a cage match?” She takes a drink absently, waiting for Duncan to explain._

_“Two men enter, one leaves alive. I’m not sure how Gould figured out that Connor Bennett was Sebastian’s son. I didn’t even know he had one until now. But, he knows all the same. I wanted to ask you about the Andover clan. Seems you’ve all been hiding out in Texas these last weeks. Titus was a rival, but from what I hear, the clans may need to start sticking together. What happened?”_

_Charlie takes another drink. This is her chance. If she can get Duncan to take arms against the patriots, she knows that their cause will have a new edge. “The patriots paid Titus to come down to Willoughby and terrorize the town. They needed to create a problem that they could solve. They used it them to get an in on the town. Afterwards, they slaughtered them all.”_

_Duncan’s eyes narrowed as she took in what Charlie said. Shaking her head, she questions this new tale. “How do you know that’s what happened?”_

_Charlie smiles. “Because my uncle watched them die.”_

_“And why do I care what your uncle says he saw?” Duncan can’t make a decision based off hearsay. She wanted more proof before she involved her clan._

_Charlie had been trying to keep her own identity a secret while she was here. But she knew that it would be safe with this woman. “Because my uncle is Miles Matheson.”_

_“You’re Miles Matheson’s niece?” She watched as Charlie nodded slightly in the affirmative. “Oh Sebastian has really got himself into a mess this time, hasn’t he?” She laughed at that._

_“So, will you help me? I need to get them out of there.” Charlie has to fight herself to keep from begging. She knows that when it comes down to a death match, Bass will let Connor kill him. She downs her drink, trying to block those thoughts out. The last thing she needs to do now is lose it._

_“I’ll do you one better kid. You’d better get ready. It looks like your family has a warclan coming for dinner.” Duncan tells her to wait there. She goes to the door and opens it a crack. She whispers instructions to the guards waiting there._

_“So what are we going to do?” Charlie starts to cross the room, but she notices that her feet don’t quite want to work. She blinks her eyes a few times. She’s felt like this before. Her mind flashes back to a bar, hundreds of miles away, many weeks ago. “You – you drugged me?”_

_“Sorry kid.” Duncan really does feel sorry for the girl. Charlie looks up as the door opens again. She flinches, fearing men like the ones back in that bar. Instead walks three women. One is dressed like Duncan. Charlie assumes she must be a member of Duncan’s clan. The other two are obviously whores. “We got in to see Sebastian earlier. Warlord’s privilege. He doesn’t know we’re coming to get him. His last request was that I make sure you get back to your family unharmed. He wasn’t specific as to how. I can’t have you running in there gung-ho trying to help. Melanie and her friends will keep you safe in the mean time.”_

_Charlie’s eyes close against her will. The next time she opens her eyes, she can hear Bass shouting. “Jesus, Duncan! What the hell did you do to her?”_

_Charlie is disoriented. Her dreams have been filled with drunken barflies cornering her, pulling at her, waiting for her to fall. She sits up suddenly, eyes trying to focus. He kneels down before her. She is panting, panicked. He puts a hand on her shoulder. She scrambles into the corner of the couch, eyes not yet seeing him. “Charlie, take it easy. It’s just me. You’re okay, it’s just a flashback, from the drugs.”_

_Charlie takes a couple deep breaths. Her mind clears a little. She realizes who is before her now. He’s alive, safe. “Bass?” She clings to him for a few minutes. For now, she isn’t thinking about everything that has happened. She is just glad he is alive._

_Having calmed her down from her initial drug-induced panic, Bass clears his throat and slowly unwraps her arms from around him before standing up. “Drug her? Really? Why, Duncan?”_

_Duncan crosses her arms as she leans up against the doorframe. “You asked me to keep her safe. I could tell just by looking at her she would get herself into trouble. I couldn’t babysit her and raid New Vegas at the same time. Mission accomplished. She’s safe, you’re out and Gould is dead. But we can argue about this later. Let’s get you patched up and hit the road. I’ve got thirty men ready to move out now. The rest will follow in a few days. Since we’re picking up stakes completely, they’ve got to pack up our camp.”_

_Bass and Charlie both turn to stare at Duncan. “What do you mean?” Bass asks her, raising an eyebrow at her._

_“Oh, didn’t I tell you? We’re coming with you. Your girlfriend here told me what happened to The Andover clan. Gould was giving the patriots around her info about the tribes. My clan is not going to sit here like sitting ducks. We’ll come to Texas and help you get rid of them there. If we can get them out of Texas, we can rally the clans down south and then work our way north.”_

_One of her clansmen walked in with a small bag. Charlie watched as Bass removed his shirt. A deep purple bruise was forming on his ribcage. The clansman poked around at the bruising. Bass gasped sharply when he applied pressure to the middle of the bruise. “Looks like a broken rib. Not much to do for it.” He applies what looks like a salve of some sort over the bruising, and wraps a cloth tightly over Bass’ ribcage._

_Bass looks over at Charlie. “Let’s get you home, Charlotte.” He then walks outside as he pulls his shirt back on. It is not lost on Charlie that he’s reverted back to calling her Charlotte. This is as clear an indication as anything that he’s taking a step back from her. It is the last time he talks to her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly, this is just backstory pushing the story past New Vegas. There are so many different fics about getting the boys out, I didn’t want to go into too much detail to risk inadvertent plagiarism there. That, and since I don’t know if I’ll get this story finished before the show comes back on, I didn’t want to come up with something elaborate and iffy when the show probably has something more simple in mind that will make more sense in the end. (Plus, I admit it – I suck at fight scenes…) So here you go! (This replaces an almost identical chapter two that I posted an hour ago, fyi. I hadn’t realized some of my formatting had been undone by Word.) Thank you to anyone that likes/comments, offers ideas, thoughts, criticism, etc.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing with a view of a day on the road with Duncan and her men, on the way back to Texas. This will be the only chapter going into detail during the journey. I felt the story needed one, but I also don't want to bore the masses with a daily play-by-play of their travels.

Charlie’s attention was brought back to the present as the wagon veered off the main road. Bass had actually succeeded in falling asleep, but was jarred awake by the change in direction. “Dammit” he grumbled under his breath, holding his side with one hand.

Charlie looked over at him, concerned. “You okay?” She didn’t really expect him to respond, but the question presented itself all the same.

“I’m fine,” he bit out, wincing. Bass pulled himself into a crouch and turned his back on her then. Charlie assumed he was dismissing her, when he took off his jacket and started pulling up his shirt.

“What are you doing?” she asked, finding his actions a little bizarre. 

“It’s this bandage. It’s making it harder to breathe. Do me a favor? Get rid of it. Please?” He gestured towards his back at the knot that was just out of his reach.

Charlie simply nodded and tentatively reached for the knot. He shuddered slightly at her touch. She hesitated for a second when she noticed his reaction, steeling herself for a moment before continuing. She carefully unwound the bandage, flinching when she saw the ugly marks on his back. She’d overheard Gene and Miles talking about his whipping, but this was the first time she’d seen the results. The night she’d accosted him on his way back to the barn it had been too dark for her to see them. It was apparent to her that the scarring would be terrible. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she set down the bandage and sat back down against the side of the wagon.

“Thank you,” he offered as he lowered his shirt and reached for his jacket. He took several deep breaths, pressing on his side with each one. Satisfied, he resumed his earlier position. Bass had sensed her hesitation after he’d reacted to her touching him. He knew that she mistook it for revulsion and anger, but she couldn’t have been further from the truth. But, he’d be damned if he was going to let her know that. 

Charlie was determined to keep him talking. The constant silence from him had been unbearable. “How long will it take to heal?”

He looked into her eyes for a second, trying to guess what her game was. He’d been trying to ignore both her and Connor for days. He knew it was a bit childish, but in truth, he didn’t really have much to say to either one. What could he say? By now the both knew the real reason their fling had bothered him. Connor had found it mildly amusing, and well… he didn’t know what Charlie thought. He saw the apprehension in her eyes, so he finally replied, “A few weeks maybe. I don’t know. If it’s still bothering me when we get back, I’ll have your grandfather take a look.” He sighed, sending a shooting pain to his ribcage as he settled himself back down against the side of the wagon. He stretched his legs out and tried to get comfortable. 

They both returned to silence, but it seemed that some of the heaviness had lifted. He watched her carefully for a while. Something had been bothering him since they’d left New Vegas. Since his rather effective silent treatment had been broken, he finally decided to ask.He was just trying to appease his curiosity, or so he told himself. “Are _you_ okay?” 

Charlie looked up at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were pretty freaked out when you woke up before we left town. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay. No nightmares, anything like that?” Bass knew what had happened to her in that bar had been intense. He hadn’t been concerned about any lasting effects it may have had until now.  It was the terrified look on her face that mirrored the one she’d had when he’d come to her rescue that had worried him. He’d instantly known that in her mind, she was back in that place. He’d known more than one fellow marine that had experienced PTSD for the first time long after coming home. As a sergeant with a squad under his command, he’d gone through training on what to watch for and knew that sometimes the smallest thing could trigger a reaction long after an event occurred. The loss of his family had been a trigger for him, sending him into a thwarted suicide attempt and months of nightmares and flashbacks of Iraq. 

“I’m fine.” She saw that he really didn’t look convinced. “Really,” she added.

“You know it’s okay if you’re not. It happens. I’ve seen it happen to a lot of good soldiers.” He wasn’t quite ready to hand over the olive branch, but he found that he needed to make sure she was going to be alright. 

“If I think I’m going to freak out, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.” She’d been so desperate to get him to talk to her, but the subject was starting to make her uncomfortable. She knew he had feelings for her – or at least he did before she went and slept with Connor. But, she still wasn’t used to him showing concern over her mental and emotional wellbeing. Making sure she didn’t die was one thing. Making sure she was sane? Well, that was strange coming from Bass of all people.

“Well okay then.” With his point having been taken, Bass crossed his arms over his chest, and resumed his pretense of ignoring her. As if he could ever actually forget she was there. They rode in silence for a short time longer before Connor pulled the wagon behind an old farm house at Duncan’s instructions.

Charlie stood up and leaned over to address Duncan. “Why are we stopping?”

“The horses need a break. We’ll stop here for the night. Stopping early will give the rest of the clan a chance to get a bit closer. I don’t like that they are this far behind us with these patriots of yours roaming the plains.” Duncan jumped down off the wagon, giving her men orders while she walked away. Setting up camp for thirty-four people was no small undertaking. 

Connor turned around on the bench and smiled at Charlie. “Wanna scope out the house? See if there’s anything useful inside?” He could tell the offer grated on his father. _Well that’s just too damn bad_ he thought to himself with a grin.

She watched Bass get down off the wagon and walk over to Duncan before replying to Connor. She’d been about to tell him no, but watching Bass with Duncan bothered her. She smiled back and jumped down to the ground. “Well what are we waiting for then? Let’s go scavenge.”

She had to admit to herself that rummaging around the farm house had been kind of fun. Most of the things people would find useful had been stripped long ago. They did find a few blankets that were relatively clean. She also found a prescription bottle labeled Ibuprofen, with instructions to take for pain. She didn’t know if it was still good or not, but decided to keep it just in case.

They walked out onto the porch of the farmhouse laughing, covered in dust. Bass and Duncan were sitting on the steps, watching her men set up camp. “Well it’s good to see you’re having a good time,” Bass said under his breath, clearly annoyed with them. Charlie dropped the blankets in a pile on the porch. Irritated at him and what he might be insinuating, she tossed the pill bottle at him a little harder than necessary, hitting him square in the back with it. Refusing to let her see that it stung a little, he turned around and picked it up, studying the label. 

“These might be worthless now, but I figured it was worth a shot. Maybe if you weren’t in pain, you wouldn’t be so bitchy,” Charlie kept her voice saccharin sweet. She was doing her best to look like everything was normal while they were in front of Duncan.

Bass turned back around to watch the clan, deciding not to respond. He did however put the pill bottle in his jacket pocket. Duncan watched the two of him, her typical Mona Lisa smile on her face as she watched them interact. She decided that the two of them just needed to sleep together before they killed each other. Laughing, she told them just that. “My god. Will the two of you just get it over with?” She stood up and walked over to a small group of her men to get an update on what the scouts had come back with.

Charlie picked up the blankets again and walked away. It was going to be a very long trip home. With thirty men following on foot, it would be at least another week before they got back to Willoughby instead of the five days their original trip had taken.

Later that night, Charlie was digging her bedroll out of the back of the wagon when Connor approached her from behind. “So… Since no one is sleeping in the house that means it’s well, empty.” His intent was clear. 

Charlie slowly turned around to face him. It was inconceivable that he would actually try to sleep with her again when it was obviously a problem for his father. She looked up at him and smiled, cocking her head. She couldn’t quite decide if he was a complete idiot or just an asshole. She reached up and patted him on the cheek. “Yeah, it was kind of a onetime thing. Thank you though for the offer.” She turned back to the wagon, dismissing him. Neither of them saw a man in the shadows watch them for a moment before turning away.

___

Bass settled down against the front of the house on the porch with a bottle of cheap pre-blackout bourbon in his hand. Any previous scavengers of the property, including Charlie and his son were apparently blind. He found a small box containing three bottles of the stuff under the crawlspace beneath the porch. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of pills she’d given him. It had actually been kind of thoughtful of her. He was in a bit of pain, and if they hadn’t lost their potency over the years, the pills would help. Before the blackout, 800 mg Ibuprofen were a gift from the gods to a functioning alcoholic such as himself. He popped a pill in his mouth and washed it down with a pull from the bottle. 

To say he was aggravated would be putting it lightly. He’d seen Charlie headed over to the wagon, and had decided that it was time for the two of them to really talk. He’d just been about to make his move when Connor had appeared from inside the house to make a move of his own. Even from afar, the kid’s motives were pretty clear. Duncan had decided that since the house was too small for their entire group that her men would all sleep outside. In solidarity, Duncan would join them. Bass had told Charlie to sleep inside, but she had already decided that if the men that were to aid them were stuck outside then she would as well. It was only right. This meant that the house would be empty, private. Bass saw her smile up at Connor, and at that moment decided to walk away. He didn’t want to know her answer. 

Duncan joined him, pulling him out of his reverie. “Want some company?” she asked, sitting down. 

“Not really,” he replied, but handed her the bottle all the same. 

She took a drink from the bottle before handing it back to him. “Aw, not going to share with the rest of the group?”

He took another drink as he gestured towards the box containing the other two bottles. “If you want to watch thirty grown men fight over two bottles of cheap bourbon, be my guest.” 

Duncan laughed at that. She then looked at him, her expression serious now. “She didn’t go with him you know.”

Bass turned to look at her, confused. “Who? What?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about Sebastian. The girl. She turned your son down. She bedded down near Melanie. She’ll be safe from these savages there.” Melanie was one of only a handful of female clansmen in the Page War clan. Despite her effeminate name, the woman was anything but. She had been the one left to watch over Charlie while the raid on New Vegas took place. 

Duncan had watched the exchange between Connor and Charlie. She’d also noticed Bass standing in the shadows. She knew the girl was jealous of her. Hell, if she hadn’t found Sebastian’s fascination with the girl so damn amusing, she’d probably still have been jealous of Charlie. She’d initially been quite annoyed that he’d have the audacity to bring his plaything to New Vegas at the same time he’d been there to ask for her help, so she’d lashed back at him with her demand for 30 diamonds a head. Of course she knew now that despite the cow eyes the two made at each other when they thought no one was looking, that Sebastian and Charlie were not what one would call an item. She’d heard about how Sebastian had caught Charlie with his son. 

_Tough blow_ , she’d thought. On one hand, she thought it was a dick move on Charlie’s part, but on the other hand she had to admire the girl. She wanted something, she took it. Simple as that. It reminded Duncan of herself in her younger years. Still, she’d known Sebastian for a long time. She’d never known him to allow himself such anguish over a piece of ass. She had seen the relief in his eyes when he realized that Charlie was not currently inside getting laid. But, she could see that the damage had already been done that night. Feeling bad for him, she went to bed down with her men.

Satisfied that Charlie would be safe for the night, Bass was determined to stay put. With so many of Duncan’s men with them, he had the rare luxury of not having to keep watch for the night. He drank enough to numb his ribcage and dull the image of Charlie and Connor together in his mind, and then curled up on his bedroll and went to sleep. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. Not really a whole lot of action here. More like getting into the mindset of the different characters in our little bizarre love quadrilateral. (is that what you call it when it’s a triangle +1?). I promise not to go chapter after chapter on the trip home. The next chapter will likely cover their arrival home, any conversations that Bass and Connor may have had while in captivity (in flashback format) and of course some Charloe just for fun  At some point, there will be some saucier moments. If you have any suggestions, comments, criticism please let me know. All feedback is really appreciated!


	4. Chapte 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter covers what happens at the end of the trip back to Willoughby, but it also includes a flashback of what happened in New Vegas before and during the time Charlie was drugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather long chapter. I admit that this chapter is kind of a compilation of stuff I’d written out of order. I hope that I’ve managed to merge it all together okay. The idea of Bass being crazy General man hasn’t set well with me. Maybe I’ll write something that keeps him in that role, but that is not to be in this story. So, I kind of needed a reason for him to not like Connor so much. I was going for a “Connor is really a self-centered brat” angle. I’m hoping I pulled it off? Admittedly, this chapter has made me a bit nervous. It intimidated me a little. Thoughts? (Thanks in advance for any comments, kudos, etc)

After another week of traveling, they finally found themselves within a day’s ride of the safe house outside of town. The week had been uneventful; however Charlie found it stressful all the same. After that one day of tenuous peace between herself and Bass, he’d reverted back to near silence. As his rib healed enough to allow him more mobility without pain, he’d taken over driving he wagon for the majority of the trip, effectively buffering himself from her. 

Although his manner with Duncan and her men was easy, almost approaching friendly, he had rarely spoken to either Connor or Charlie. In fact, if he wasn’t barking curt instructions to them, he hadn’t spoken to them at all. He simply avoided them. This would have been unnerving in and of itself if she hadn’t also caught him looking at her when he hadn’t thought she’d notice. And, twice when she’d dropped her bedroll a bit far from the others, he’d moved it when she’d stepped away. It bothered her that he wouldn’t speak to her but still insisted on protecting her. She also could not fathom why he was taking it out on Connor. She knew she deserved it, but he hadn’t known at the time that he’d been doing something wrong.

Duncan’s men had already broken off from their group to make their permanent camps. They’d been instructed to break up into three separate groups, each about a 4 hour ride from each other and from where the Mathesons were hiding. With a hundred men, any closer and they would attract too much attention. They were still outnumbered and surprise would be their best offence. The rest of her clan would arrive in a few days and would split up from there. 

As the day wore on and the wagon drew closer to Miles and Rachel, Bass grew more anxious. He’d already made a decision on what needed to be done. He knew it would cause problems, but it simply couldn’t be helped. He’d already discussed his plans with Duncan. She hadn’t exactly been on board, but she’d agreed to help him all the same.

They were still about an hour away from their destination when Bass slowly drew in the reigns. “Whoa,” he said gently to the horses, pulling the wagon to a stop. He handed the reigns over to Duncan now, and jumped down from the wagon. 

“What are you doing?” Connor asked as Bass reached into the back of the wagon to get his gear. 

“End of the line,” was all he said as he pulled his pack out. He stopped to check his pistol before slinging his bag onto his back, wincing when the weight hit his ribcage.

Connor jumped down to join him. “But we’re still an hour away.” Connor was still not getting it.

“Not for you. End of the line for me.” He turned away and started to walk down the road the way they’d come. He stopped when he realized his son meant to follow him. “You are going with them.”

Finally starting to get it, Connor exploded. “Just like that huh? What about your promise to me?”

Bass took a step forward. He’d finally had enough of his progeny. “Are you really that stupid? After everything that happened in New Vegas, do you really think that’s still on the table?” He turned away before continuing. “It’s over with. Done. It was a bad idea to begin with, and to be honest, I don’t want it. I never did. I was just trying to find a way to keep you from getting yourself killed.”

Connor didn’t want to admit defeat, so he tried another tactic: Guilt. “Well what the hell am I supposed to do now that you’ve decided to just ditch me?”

Bass turned one last time. “Go with them. Fight. Or, Don’t. Go back to Mexico, or go to California. Or, just go to hell. Frankly, I don’t really care right now.” He dismissed Connor completely now and started walking once again.

**_12 Days prior:_ **

_Bass sits in the dirt, leaning up against the old chain link fencing that makes up this new jail cell. Connor lies in a heap on the far side of the room. Of course, the kid had to get lippy and cute on their walk over. Gould’s mook had taken exception to Connor’s remarks, hence the moron’s current condition. Bass has already checked on him. He will have a good sized lump tomorrow, but otherwise his son is okay._

_The have already been here a few hours. By now, Charlie should have figured out that something has gone seriously wrong._ If there is a god, she will be well on her way home by now, _Bass thinks to himself. Gould has already been in to taunt them, so he knows she hasn’t been captured. He doesn’t know how, but somehow the dickhead knows not only who Bass really is, but also who Connor is to him. He has also explained where their future is headed – a cage match._

_Even now thinking about it makes Bass sick to his stomach. There is only one way it will end – one of them will exit a winner, the other will exit in a coffin. And that is to say that Gould will even bother with that expense. It had occurred to Bass to simply let Connor beat him to death, but Gould has made it clear that any attempts to throw the fight will result in a bullet in them both. And, Gould has seen him fight enough to know when he’s throwing a fight. Bass knows it is only Gould’s arrogance that fooled the dick earlier in the night when he went up against Zeus. He knows that won’t work again._

_Bass hears a noise from outside and looks up. In walks the last person he thought he’d see: Duncan Page. She whispers something to the clansmen that accompany her. “Leave us,” she commands Gould’s guy. Mook-man starts to open his mouth, most likely to tell her no. “Listen asshole, I’m not going to let him out. But I’ve got personal business here. So get the hell out.” The guard thinks better of challenging Duncan. Her clan is large, and he knows they can make life dangerous for him if he crosses her._

_Duncan waits for the guard to leave and then saunters over to Bass. “Hello Sebastian. Having a bad day are you?”_

_He stands as she approaches him. “No, everything is going according to plan.” He wonders why she’s even here. Things between did not end well, seeing as he disappeared on her and all. Granted, their entire relationship has been a complicated one. She knew that he wasn’t faithful as a lover. But again, neither was she._

_Duncan stares him down for several minutes. Surprisingly, it makes him a little uncomfortable. “There seems to be a lot of talk going around. And it seems your identity is now common knowledge.”_

_Bass isn’t surprised by this, seeing as how Gould has already told him he knows. But, he is curious as to how. “Yeah, I’ve been told. Apparently Gould is planning on this little fight being a big draw. What I want to know is how he figured it all out.”_

_Duncan drops her voice now. “From what I hear, Gould has some interesting new friends. They’ve got a thing for stars and stripes.”_

_The mention of the Patriots has Bass’ blood running cold. Gould pretty much owns this town. If he’s been playing ball with the Patriots, it means that the entire area has been compromised. “Duncan, if he’s sold out New Vegas to the patriots, you’ve gotta get your clan out of here.”_

_“Have you ever known me to run, Sebastian?” She is visibly insulted by his suggestion._

_Bass rubs a hand over his face and starts to pace as he talks. He needs to make sure she understands. “This is different. Your tribe is big and you’ve got good men. They will either try to hire you or take you out. Either way, when they’re done, consider yourselves extinct, just like the Andover clan._

_Duncan seems to mull over his words, but doesn’t seem completely convinced. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, what’s your plan?”_

_Bass looks over at Connor. The kid has been slowly showing times of life. A groan here and there, shifting about. “Isn’t it obvious? He’s my son. I can’t kill him, so that leaves only one alternative.”_

_She nods in understanding. It is pointless to convince him otherwise. “Well for old times sake, you get one favor. Ask it now.”_

_Bass nods, his mind going a thousand miles a minutes. “You remember the girl that was with us, Charlie?”_

_Duncan’s eyes narrow at the mention of the girl. “Yeah, what about her?”_

_“If something went wrong, she was supposed to high tail it for Texas. But if I know her, she’s probably going to double back. If the Patriots are around, she’s as good as dead if she shows up and tries to free us.” Bass shudders at the thought. This is not lost on Duncan._

_She cocks her head at him arrogantly, daring him to continue. “If you ever gave a damn about me, you’ll get her out of here. Take her home to her family.”_

_Duncan shifts her weight and crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s this girl to you?”_

_How is he supposed to explain it, especially to Duncan of all people? He settles for a safe answer for now. “It’s complicated. But she matters - To a lot of people.”_

_He unwraps the wristband he always wears around his wrist. Inside is a packet full of diamonds. “I’ll make it worth your while. 100 diamonds. But, you’ve got to take her personally.”_

_She finds the request audacious. “My men can handle one little girl without my supervision._

_“I think 100 diamonds is worth a personal touch, don’t you?”_

_She stares him down for several minutes before replying. “I don’t play escort. I’ll send 5 guys with her. She will be fine. I’ll even let her people keep the men for a few weeks.”_

_Bass does not like this arrangement. He needs to sweeten the deal. He pulls off a chain around his neck. Hanging from the chain are two metal plates – his dog tags from another world, and two wedding rings. He passes these to Duncan through the chain link wall that separates them. “Take these too.”_

_She looks at the rings. The woman’s band has a decent sized rock. It would bring a good price in trade. “Aw, Sebastian, are you proposing?”_

_Bass rolls his eyes. She’s not making this easy on him. “They belonged to my folks. You have everything I own. Will you take her?”_

_Duncan sees how serious he is._ Well now, this is interesting, _she thinks to herself. “Okay, I’ll take care of it personally. Anything else?” With such a steep price, she is willing to grant him an additional favor._

_Bass considers this for a second. He turns to look again at Connor. “Yeah. After the fight, make sure Gould lets him go instead of handing him over to the Patriots.”_

_Time is running out. Duncan hastily agrees as Gould walks into the building. “What are you doing with my prisoner, Duncan?” he asks. Clearly, he doesn’t trust her and is a little bit intimidated by her at the same time._

_Duncan looks up at him with clear loathing. Gould is a big talker that just happened to get lucky here in New Vegas. Without his men, he’s nothing. “Just taking care of some loose ends before you kill him. You got a problem with that?”_

_Gould backs down quickly. No one quite knows how a woman has become the leader of one of the larger, more lethal tribes. And quite personally, he doesn’t wish to find out. He follows her out of the building. The guard follows them out as well. Bass can see him standing just outside the open door._

_As soon as they are alone, Connor decides to finally come back to life. It is obvious to Monroe that he’s been awake for a while. He’s been listening to everything discreetly. “You’ve got to be joking. You had a chance to get us busted out of here, and you wasted it on Charlie?”_

_Bass looks over at him, incredulous. “If there are patriots here, it’s too risky. If I know Charlie, she’s still around somewhere. We have no idea how many patriots are around. They’re good at hiding when they need to. If Duncan tries to get us out and protect Charlie, she might spread herself to thin, and then we’re all dead.”_

_Connor likes Charlie and all, but his sense of self-preservation is simply too strong. “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she can handle herself.”_

_Bass shakes his head, still not believing that this is the kid he’d caught tangled up in Charlie hours ago. One minute he’s sleeping with her, the next he’s willing to throw her to the wolves to save his own skin? “I’m not risking her. You’ve got an out. All you’ve got to do is beat me. Duncan will see to it Gould lets you go. It’s my hide, my choice.”_

_Connor sits up now. “What’s the deal, Dad?” He spits out the title like it’s filthy to him. “You gave her everything just to get Charlie out. Why?”_

_“Not like I can take it with me where I’m going, kid. This way, I’ll know she’ll do it.” Bass avoids giving the answer that he knows Connor expected to hear. It doesn’t matter, he’s figured it out._

_“Oh. My. God. You’ve got a thing for Charlie?” Connor starts to laugh. “Now that is funny. Like you had a chance there. Don’t you know she thinks you’re a bastard?”_

_“Watch it.” Bass is not discussing this with Connor. They have too much to do, and no time._

_“It was all for nothing. I left Mexico just to watch you get killed saving a piece of ass.” Connor is pissed now. Bass realizes that the promise of the republic is the only thing that Connor cares about still. Bass is about to let the kid kill him, Charlie could still be killed, and all he cares about is now he won’t get the Monroe Republic handed to him in the end._

_Bass walks over to Connor and hauls him up to his feet. A quick strike to the kids gut sends him back to the ground. “When this is over, I swear to god you’d better stay away from her.”_

_“Or what, you’ll come back and haunt me?” The threat holds no water when it’s coming from a dead man._

_Connor is the perfect mix of the arrogant little prick Bass was in his younger years and the post blackout psycho he had become. The difference is that Bass had time to grow out of those prick years before his world ended. Connor never had that chance. Bass walks away from his son wearily. “Let’s just get started we don’t have a lot of time now.”_

_Connor gets to his feet slowly. “Time for what?”_

_“I’ve got to teach you how to kill me.” The words leave his lips sadly. This was not how he pictured things when he set out to find his son._

_They spend the next several hours getting Connor ready. Bass may be almost twice his age, but he’s bigger, stronger, better trained and has years of experience under his belt. The kid picked up a thing or two from Nunez’ men and he’s got good instincts, but he’s really no match in a fair fight. So, Bass does what he can to level the playing field some. He teaches Connor his weaknesses. In a fight, knowing your enemy’s weak points is everything. He tells him to go for the marks on his back. They aren’t fully healed yet and still bother him. Pain is disorienting. His right shoulder has been dislocated twice over the years. Another weak point. If Connor hits it just right, it will disable the entire arm. He shows Connor where and how to it vital organs in a fight._

_Before they know it, the day is dawning and the time has come. Gould’s men come and drag them off to the fight cage in the back half of the building. Quite a crowd as gathered. Gould will make a fortune off this fight. Bass surveys his surroundings. Several flags form the Monroe Republic have been hung around the area. A red ‘X’ has been painted over the M in the middle of each flag._

_Monroe barely hears Gould’s announcement. His adrenaline is pumping; he just wants this to start so he can get it over with. Before he knows it, Gould is done yapping and the fight has commenced. He and Connor circle each other. Connor is hesitating. It is obvious that he has to make the first move. He steps forward and punches his son, catching him squarely in the jaw. He holds back as much as he can without being obvious. Connor stumbles back before catching his balance. He advances and hits him back, catching Bass in the shoulder. He’s going to try to take out that bad shoulder as fast as he can._

_They trade hits. Bass has to deflect some of them, or he will look like he’s throwing the fight. Connor isn’t as fast as he is, and he’s getting a little banged up. Bass has Connor up against the side of the cage. He notices Connor reach behind himself. Someone has passed him something. Connor lands a good hit, sending Bass backwards a few steps. He advances towards Bass, now carrying what looks like a lead pipe. He strikes out, catching him in the side. Bass feels a cracking sensation as he falls to the ground. He takes in a breath, but the pain is excruciating. He suspects that he’s got a broken rib or two. The pipe comes down on his back._

_He waits for another blow to fall but it never comes. Somewhere, a gun goes off. Bass takes advantage of the distraction and jumps to his feet. He looks around. Guns are drawn all around. There are only a handful of patriots here supervising the demise of Sebastian Monroe. It takes a second for Monroe to realize what is going on. The whole of Duncan’s clan is here. Even with the help of their new patriotic buddies, Gould’s men are seriously outnumbered._

_Duncan’s voice can be heard above the crowd. “I’ve heard you’ve been a bad boy Gould. Selling out New Vegas to the Patriots? Tsk tsk.”_

_Monroe misses Gould’s response. But, he catches Duncan’s signal. He pulls Connor to the ground as guns start to go off. Within few seconds, it’s over. This isn’t a rescue attempt. It’s a massacre. There was no chance for surrender, no quarter. Duncan has decided that the only way to get them out alive is to make sure there is no one left to stop them. A true warlord. Still Bass wonders what has spurred this reaction from her. She doesn’t pick unnecessary fights._

_The crowd has taken the cue to disperse. Only a handful of Duncan’s men sport injuries. Only one lies dead. Gould is stammering his pleas, crouched down against the cage. He had forgotten all about the men inside. Bass walks up behind him and reaches out. Grabbing Gould from behind, Bass snaps his neck. The sound and feel of it are satisfying. They guy really was a dick._

_Bass looks over at Connor. He’s standing there in a daze. “Let’s get out here,” Bass says to him now, jolting him back to earth. He turns his back on the kid now. He walks away, having seen Connor in an entirely new light._

_On their way to her shack, Duncan explains how this came to be. The patriots had left only a small encampment in town. The only reason it had been of interest in the first place was because it was a known haunt of the notorious Sebastian Monroe. When Duncan’s intel came back that their numbers were so small, she gave the order to take them out. Her tribe had Gould’s men outnumbered two to one. The other casino owners were willing to look the other way if it meant ending Gould’s monopoly over the town._

Charlie sat in shock, watching the exchange between Bass and Connor. After everything he’d gone through to get to Connor in Mexico, he was quite effectively writing him off. She was astounded. As Connor climbed back into the wagon, Charlie finally forced herself into action. She jumped off the wagon and headed towards Bass’ retreating figure. She vaguely heard Duncan call her name from behind her, but ignored it.

Charlie caught up with Bass just as he had passed a bend in the road. They were concealed from the wagon’s view for the time being. She reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Where the hell are you going?”

Bass stopped walking, but refused to turn and look at her. “Away from you.” 

Charlie’s temper started to flair. She walked around Bass to face him. “So we finally have the help we need to make a difference, and you’re just walking away? Out of the fight?”

Bass wasn’t sure, but he thought he was just accused of being a coward. “I’m not going to stick around to watch you and my son play house.” 

“So you’re just going to walk away because you’re jealous?” Charlie felt the guilt she’d been trying to ignore rise up again. “We need you in this fight.”

Bass sighed heavily. It always came back to that. The Mathesons didn’t want him. They simply needed his ability to kill. “I’m joining one of the clan’s camps. I’m not leaving the fight, I’m just leaving you. When the time comes, I’ll fight, and I’ll protect you. And I’ll probably get killed in the end for it. But in the meantime, I don’t have to be around you.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want him to go. “Don’t leave. I don’t want you to.” 

Bass let out a halfhearted laugh. “You don’t get everything you want in life, Charlie. Isn’t enough I’m willing to die for a cause that I don’t even care about?”

Charlie was confused. He’d said time and time again that he wanted revenge. She didn’t understand why he would say he didn’t care now. “What are you talking about?”

“This ends badly for me no matter who wins. The patriots win, well we’re all dead. The patriots lose, do you think whoever takes control is going to let me live? Where the hell am I going to go? Mexico? California? The whole continent wants me dead. Your family wants to fight the patriots, fine I’ll fight by their side. After everything I’ve done, I owe you all that. The outcome doesn’t change for me either way.”

Bass turned and started to walk towards the tribe’s encampment again. If he wanted to get there before nightfall, he needed to get moving. Refusing to let him just walk away, Charlie ran up to him and blocked his path. “I’m not letting you walk away that easily.” 

They just stood there staring at one another for a few minutes. Suddenly Bass stepped forward and reached out, pulling Charlie to him. He cupped her face gently and kissed her lightly before speaking. “You’re so young. Young and infuriating and foolish. But you’re brave, and beautiful and more innocent than you realize.” He kissed her again, this time lingering, moving his lips gently with hers. When she sighed at the contact, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers, eliciting a soft moan before pulling away. He waited for her eyes to flutter open before he continued.

“And I love you. God help me I do. And there’s a part of me that would give anything for you to stop hating me long enough to feel something back. But, there’s also a part of me that never wants to see you again. And right now, that makes the most sense. Because you will never stop hating me. And as much as I hate myself, I don’t hate me enough to let you wreck me. Even monsters have feelings, Charlie, but that doesn’t mean you get to walk all over them. I’m not your punching bag, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the outlet for your libido, just so you can turn around and hate me more for it later. Even I don’t deserve that.”

He released her then, and simply walked away. She dashed away a tear with the back of her hand as she watched him disappear. He was right. She’d gone to him that night and just expected him to comply. She’d noticed him watching her when he thought she wasn’t looking, and knew he’d wanted her. She had wanted him ever since their journey to Willoughby together, and had finally given in to that impulse. But he’d surprised her that night. His refusal to take what she’d offered was proof that he cared about her. But, unwilling to allow it to be more, she’d given him an ultimatum. 

She could finally admit to herself why she’d wanted it to seem cheap. Doing so would allow her to indulge herself with him without admitting what she felt. Because of the past, she knew her feelings were wrong. Loving Sebastian Monroe meant letting go of Danny and her father. She simply didn’t know how to do that.  But he’d been unable to just use her and had shown her more respect than she’d shown herself. And she repaid him for his respect and love by sleeping with his own son. 

She knelt in the dirt and crumbled asphalt of what was once the road and wept bitterly for the pain she’d caused him and the loss that it had caused. She must have sat there for an hour before she dusted herself off and headed back to the wagon. She wordlessly climbed up on the bench next to Duncan and took the reins from her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters are all about what is going on when they first get back home. I promise if you keep reading, the issues between Charlie and Monroe will be addressed. I just felt that they needed some time to think about recent events before then. This particular chapter is what is going on at Casa de Matheson when Charlie returns.

The trio sat in silence as Charlie drove the wagon the last hour of their journey home. As soon as the horses came to a stop, Connor jumped down and started the process of unhitching them. The exchange he’d had with his father still stung and he needed something to do while he planned his next move. He was pissed at dear old dad for basically having lied to him about getting the Monroe Republic back. But, over the past few weeks he’d invested enough of himself into fighting the Patriots that he didn’t know if he was ready to walk away yet.

Part of the reason why he’d decided to put an honest effort into the fight had been Charlie. He’d been attracted to her from the start. Who wouldn’t be? The girl was hot and confident. He’d wanted her and when it came to girls, he was used to getting what he wanted. He was good looking after all and he’d been heir apparent to the Nunez Cartel. After Nunez had taken him, the local girls had flocked to him. And it hadn’t just been the whores that flaunted their wares at visitors to Nunez’s compound. It was some of the nicer, more innocent girls in town too. Well, what was left of them anyway. They’d been impressed with his easy charm and the power he’d held.

So, when he’d set out to impress Charlie, he hadn’t read any further into what he’d thought was her awe of him. It wasn’t until she’d pulled that gun on Duncan Page that he’d realized there was more to her than met the eye. At first he’d found it a huge turn on. And, he had to admit the girl was great in the sack.

But, on the way back from New Vegas he’d started to see her in a new light. Something about her bluntness and fatalistic attitude bothered him. Her independent no-nonsense nature had also started to make him feel incompetent. She was a girl that would never need him. And, there was something to be said for a woman that made a guy feel needed, powerful.

That didn’t stop him from wanting to get her naked again. But, it did make him stop to wonder if maybe she was more trouble than she was worth. After all, he’d come all the way to Texas in hopes of one day getting back the Republic. Since being the future leader of the cartel was now out, he needed something to work towards. He didn’t want to just eke out an existence with the rest of the scavengers, just trying to get by and not catch the latest plague. And, at least Monroe (he still refused to think of him as “dad” unless he was being snide) had given him that chance. Why own a town when you could own a whole damn country? Except now that seemed to be out too, all because he and Monroe had found themselves in the peculiar position of fighting over the same woman.

Connor had briefly thought about just telling Monroe to take her so they could move on and get back to their little partnership. But, when he’d thought back on how desperate Monroe had been to protect her; even trading what could have been his only chance for escape in order to keep her safe, Connor realized it was far more complicated than that. No, Sebastian Monroe had very strong feelings for Charlie. The damage had already been done. There was no going back to those plans now. Monroe might get over Connor’s intrusion enough for them to be civil, friends even. But the man was no longer going to risk everything to give Connor a nation.

So now Connor was left having no idea where to go next. He really didn’t have anywhere else to go. He decided that for the time being, he’d stay and help fight the patriots. At any rate, it was kind of fun.

While Connor was seeing to the horses in the barn, Miles had come out to greet them. He’d almost done a double take when he saw that Bass was missing, only to have been replaced with the Plains Nation’s only resident female warlord. He shook hands with her briefly. “Duncan, what brings you to Texas these days?”

Duncan laughed at the greeting. “Oh, this and that. How you been, Miles?” Charlie raised an eyebrow at this. She’d assumed that this woman’s history with Bass had been fairly recent, limited to his previous stay in New Vegas. She hadn’t realized just how far they’d gone back.

“Oh you know. Just living the dream,” Miles led Charlie and Duncan away from the entrance of the cellar they’d been using as a home. With Connor busy and currently out of sight, he left him to his own devices. “What are you doing here, Duncan? And where is Bass?”

“Just your friendly local warclan making a house call. I heard you need a little help with your Patriot problem. Sebastian is helping my men set up one of the camps.” It was obvious to Duncan that Miles hadn’t been told all of Sebastian’s plan before the fact.

Miles gave Duncan a strange look. “You’re the one Bass went to meet?” She nodded, surprised he hadn’t yet put two and two together yet. She saw the fact that she’d said ‘camps’ had finally sunk in. “Jesus, Duncan how many men did you bring? Bass was supposed to buy ten or fifteen mercenaries.” Deciding now would be a great time for a drink, Miles pulled his flask out of his pocket and indulged himself.

“Miles, women don’t pack light. I brought all of them. A hundred strong, give or take.” She laughed as he started to choke on his whiskey.

Recovering from his initial shock, Miles’ mind started racing. This definitely changed some things. “Well we’ve got to get you out of sight then. That’s too many men to hide easily, even if they are split up a bit.” He turned to Charlie now. “We’ve had a few houseguests in your absence. Tom Neville and his son tracked us down.”

Charlie was stunned. She hadn’t even known they were still alive. Well, Tom was a given. He had more tenacity and audacity than even Bass. But she hadn’t known Jason had survived the explosions outside the tower. The last she’d heard, Jason had helped Tom pull a mutiny and they’d had control of the Militia regiment Bass had brought with him to Colorado. As much as he’d claimed to hate his father, Jason had turned around and joined him readily enough.

Charlie was lost in her thoughts as Duncan spoke again. “So that old snake is still around huh? Yeah, I’d rather him not know I’m in town as of yet. I never did like him. Sebastian told me that he’d taken over the Militia right before it was destroyed. I could have told him I’d seen that coming a mile away. The man can’t be trusted.”

They walked around to the side of the barn and went in. Connor was just finishing up with the horses and was on his way out. “Hey kid,” Miles addressed him. “Duncan is going to take me to Bass before our friends downstairs run into her. Charlie will fill you in on the Nevilles. Whatever you do, don’t tell them about your dad. These guys are even less trustworthy than the two of you.”

Miles and Duncan readied the other two horses quickly before Tom or Jason had a chance to poke their heads around. Miles gave Charlie a quick hug before leaving, “Glad you’re back in one piece Charlie. We’ll talk later about why you’re so late getting back?” With that, they rode off.

Connor was a little overwhelmed with what occurred in their first half hour back. “So, what the hell just happened?” Charlie gave him a very brief rundown on who Tom and Jason Neville were. “So the guy who will probably try to kill Monroe sooner or later and the guy you used to shag. Got it.” Charlie rolled her eyes in disgust and walked away.

She barely had time to start unloading her gear from the back of the wagon when she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Charlie.”

She turned slowly to find herself face to face with Jason Neville. There was something different about him. It was difficult to point out exactly what it was, but it was there all the same. Before she could reflect on it further, she found herself in his arms on the receiving end of a very tight hug. She stiffened for a second, not knowing quite sure how to react. He let his arms drop and looked down at her. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

She looked up at him. Here was the same old Jason she’d known before. She’d even thought for a very brief time that she’d loved him. She cocked her head, still unable to shake the feeling that something about him just wasn’t right. “No… I mean yes… I mean, what are you doing here, Jason?”

He took a step back from her, slightly uncomfortable with the chilly greeting she’d offered. “We heard about Monroe’s execution and how your mom was involved. Figured wherever she was, Miles wouldn’t be too far away.” He paused for a moment, sure he’d seen something in her expression change at the mention of Monroe’s name. It was just for a split second, but he was sure he hadn’t imagined it. “The bomb in Atlanta killed my mom. We want payback, and if there’s anyone that’s good at toppling a nation, it seems to be your uncle.”

Charlie studied him as he spoke. He had lied to her before when they’d first met, and she knew he was lying now. _What is your game, Jason?_ “Well welcome aboard, I guess.” She walked away from him then, grabbing her things and heading towards the cellar. She may have to go along with the Neville’s little charade, but she’d be damned if she was going to act like Jason’s little girlfriend in the process. It did occur to her that if she made nice with him, she might get some good info out of Jason. But, with everything that had happened with Bass and Connor, she couldn’t bring herself to consider it a viable option. She quite simply had enough man trouble without adding another one to the list.

She went down the stairs to see her family now, with Connor now following closely behind her. She gave her mom and Gene both a hug before she turned to acknowledge the other person in the room. “Well if it isn’t Charlie. How are you?” Even now, Tom’s voice made her skin crawl. She knew by now that every syllable that came out of his mouth was carefully crafted and planned. The man never said or did anything without some ulterior motive.

She slowly turned and offered him a derisive grin. “Alive and kicking, how about you?” She refused to let him intimidate her, which she knew is exactly what he meant to do.

“Oh, I’m just fine. So how was your little trip?” Miles and Rachel had refused to tell him where Charlie had gone, despite reports that she had been staying with them. He knew that she’d gone somewhere with Monroe. It was only logical. But somehow, she’d seemed to return without him. He wondered briefly if Miles had gotten word to them somehow. He couldn’t see how it was possible though. So far, none of the Mathesons had left their makeshift home since they’d arrived.

Charlie sat down with a piece of dried meat and a small apple and regarded him as she ate. “Uneventful. And a waste of time.”

“Where is Miles, Charlie?” Rachel spoke up. She could tell by Charlie’s answer that they hadn’t brought any men with them. But she couldn’t figure out why.

“He said he was going out to check on something. He didn’t say,” Charlie said innocently. She locked eyes with Tom, refusing to be the first to look away, daring him to dig further.

Realizing that he’d get nothing further from her, he looked at Connor, who had been leaning silently up against a support beam, looking bored but really taking the exchange in carefully. “And who are you?”

Connor glanced at Charlie for a second before he looked back at Tom. “I’m Connor.” He could tell from the expression on Tom’s face that the man was trying to get a read on him. He’d seen men like him before. In fact, Tom reminded him a lot of Nunez. The guy was smart, perceptive. Connor knew he’d have to keep his guard up around him.

Tom smiled craftily, knowing in his gut that this new addition to the Mathesons could prove useful in the future. “Care to elaborate?”

“Not really,” Connor said with a smile before he straightened and headed back towards the stairs. He didn’t really have much of a destination in mind, but the guy made him nervous. He just wanted out of there before it became obvious.

Late that night when Miles arrived back home, she could tell he wasn’t too happy. He opened the door to the cellar and motioned for Charlie to follow him. Everyone else had been asleep. They walked far enough to be out of earshot while still keeping the entrance to the cellar in full view.

“You mind explaining what the hell happened in New Vegas? You were supposed to keep an eye on those two and keep them out of trouble. I would have thought it would have been obvious that a diamond heist would fall under the category of trouble.” Miles had worked himself up quite a bit on the ride back.

“We needed the diamonds. Duncan Page was holding out for thirty diamonds a head. But it worked out okay. We got more than we hoped for and we didn’t even have to pay for them.” Charlie was a little quick to offer an explanation as far as Miles was concerned. Normally, she would have just said something snide and walked off. If there was one thing she hated it was being questioned Miles or Rachel.

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure out what part she had to play in whatever had been bothering Bass so badly. “Yeah, about that. Bass didn’t have to pay for the men, but he did give Duncan everything he had on him just to get you safely out of town. Enlighten me Charlie. Why you didn’t do as you were told and come back here when they’d been taken?”

“I was just trying to find out what happened to them when they didn’t show. I wasn’t going to do anything, probably.” She added that last part quietly. She knew that if the situation was reversed, Bass would not have just left her to her fate.

Miles ran a hand through his hair. He loved his niece very much but she drove him nuts sometimes. “And what the hell happened to him by the way? Guy looks like someone kicked his puppy or something.”

Charlie turned away, refusing to make eye contact. “How they hell should I know? Am I your Monroe’s keeper?”

“Huh…” Miles didn’t believe her for a second. Whatever the heck was eating Bass, Charlie knew about it. “Anyways, the plan is to lay low for a few days. Wait for the rest of Duncan’s clan to show up. Stay close, and don’t go wandering around near their camps. We don’t want Jason or Tom to follow you and figure out they’re in town. At least not until we can figure out what their angle is.”

Charlie nodded in understanding. “Yeah, something isn’t right there. And Jason is different. I’m not sure what it is, but he’s hiding something.”

“You know, you could try to sweeten him up. See if he’ll spill. You two were rather close at one point.” Miles had proven just how much their minds thought alike.

Charlie shook her head. “No. Not going to happen.”

“Just a thought,” Miles said as he gestured for her to lead the way back to the cellar for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters are kind of a response to a comment request from fanfic.net on what is going on in Bass and Charlie’s heads while they spend a little time apart. Since they took the time to suggest it, I’ve taken the time to write it. Initially this was going to be one chapter, but it seemed kind of long, so I’ve split it up into two, with a Charloe reunion chapter to follow. I hope that combined they aren’t too long?? For the most part I’ve got the next two chapters written and typed up. Just gotta proof etc. Please, let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before I present you with some actual Charloe. This is what took place after Miles left with Duncan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments! I do like to know everyone's thoughts so, please let me know if you like, dislike, etc.

_Meanwhile, at the warclan camp:_

Miles and Duncan arrived at the camp Bass had decided to join shortly before dusk. There were only ten men here now. Twenty more would join them by week’s end. Duncan went to address the man she’d left in charge of this group while Miles searched for Bass. He found him leaning up against a tree on the edge of camp, in the process of reassembling one of the rifles they’d gotten from the Patriots.

Miles watched him for a few minutes. As soon as Bass finished his task, he immediately began to disassemble the gun again. It was an old drill they’d had to do while in the Marines. It was also a habit that Bass had picked up in Iraq when he was upset about something. _Well this can’t be good._ Miles thought to himself.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch me, Miles? It’s kind of creeping me out,” Bass said as he began to reassemble the gun once more.

Miles stepped forward to stand in front of his former best friend. “What’s with all of this, Bass?” Miles said, gesturing at the rifle.

“Just making sure it’s in working order,” Bass replied flatly. Everyone had always said that Miles was the moody one of the two, but when Bass worked himself up about something, he could be as dour as Miles had ever been.

“Ri-i-ight,” Miles said, obviously skeptical. “So, I’ve got to hand it to you. When you go out to get homicidal help, you really go all out.”

Bass set the gun aside, and crossed his arms over his chest. “We aim to please.” He looked off into the distance, watching one of the clansmen start the night’s fire.

Miles sat down next to Bass. “So were they running a special on warriors at the local Walmart, then?” He’d asked Duncan how her entire clan had come to join their cause, but she had simply told him it wasn’t her story to tell.

Bass told him about what had happened in New Vegas, leaving out the part involving Charlie and Connor, of course. “What on earth would possess you to think of robbing the casino?” Miles said when he’d finished. “Are you completely stupid?”

Bass shifted uncomfortably. “You have no idea, brother.” How could he possibly explain to Miles why he’d been so desperate to hurry up and get the diamonds? “Anyways it worked out better in the long run. Instead of fifteen guys, we’ve got a small army. And they aren’t just paid mercenaries. They’ve got a good reason to fight now. They’ll fight better for it.”

“Yeah, so if you didn’t have to pay them, then what happened to the diamonds?” Miles was curious. Those diamonds would come in handy later, and he didn’t quite trust Bass not to have stashed them somewhere.

“Cost of doing business. I traded them for a favor. “

“Please don’t tell me you paid a hundred diamonds for a happy ending.” Miles said, starting to get annoyed.

Bass turned his head to look at Miles, slightly disgusted at the question. As if he ever had to pay for it. “Really? No, you pervert. Before she decided involve her clan, I gave them to Duncan to make sure Charlie got home. I figured she’d stick around and try to break us out. I wanted to make sure she got back safe.” Bass picked the gun back up and started to take it apart again. “She never should have gone with us in the first place.”

It was not lost on Miles that Bass had resumed his nervous habit once the subject turned to his niece. _What on earth happened while they were gone?_ Miles knew he was missing a part of the picture, but he couldn’t begin to guess what. “What gives Bass? Why are you staying here? And why isn’t your kid with you?”

Bass sighed deeply. He knew that Miles wasn’t going to simply just let this all drop, but it wasn’t like he could tell him what was going on. “Just something I’ve got to work out. Be better for everyone if I wasn’t always around anyways. You can’t tell me that Rachel won’t be relieved.” He let out a soft chuckle. “Just tell her it was your idea. Could get you lucky.”

“Now who’s the pervert?” Miles had missed this, the easy camaraderie between the two of them. Every so often of late, Miles had caught a glimpse of pre-blackout Bass. Little things would pop up where he’d least expected. Like how after slitting a Patriot’s throat, he looked up and had said _I’m Batman_. It was completely deadpan and out of place, but that was the old Bass. He knew that these were just small flashes of the past and were fleeting, but it gave him hope that his old friend wasn’t completely dead. Still, nothing could erase the past sixteen years.

Shaking his head, Miles changed the subject. “Well, it’s probably for the best that you didn’t come back. We’ve had some houseguests since you’ve been away.” Intrigued, Bass cocked his head and gestured for Miles to continue. “Tom Neville and his kid have graced us with their presence. They said that they heard about your execution and figured we were involved. Decided they wanted to join the cause.”

Bass stopped what he was doing and stared at Miles. “And you actually believe him?”

“Of course not. We’ll keep an eye on him. In the meantime it’s best that you keep out of sight. He’s up to something - kept asking about your death. But Truman knows you’re still alive now, so we have to be cautious.” Miles stood up then. He didn’t relish spending the night here. It would be late before he returned as it was, and he didn’t’ want Tom to get suspicious and start looking for him. It would only be a matter of time before Tom discovered Duncan’s clan was in the area, but he’d prefer to keep it a secret as long as they could.

As he watched Miles walk away, Bass called out to him. “Do me a favor? Let me know if Connor takes off.” Miles turned to look at him questioningly. “Just do it?” Miles nodded as he headed back to his horse, more confused than ever.

 

Bass stayed up late into the night messing with the gun. Disassemble, Reassemble. Disassemble, Reassemble. He’d lost count of how many times he’d done it. He hadn’t carried a rifle like it since Iraq, but it seemed some things were just like riding a bike. It gave him something to do, and he found an odd comfort in it. Just like old times. He had a lot to work out in his mind, and it was either this or get blindingly drunk. Sadly, whiskey was in short supply around here and it wasn’t like he could just swagger into town and pick up a bottle.

He didn’t know what to do about Connor or Charlie, other than stay as far away from them as he could. He felt a bit guilty for the way he’d handled Connor. Telling him to go to hell was a bit much. But he had been pissed. One minute, the kid is willing to trade Charlie off to save his own skin, the next he’s trying to get back in her pants.

 _And people thought I was a womanizer_ , Bass thought to himself grimly. It was one thing to flirt and flatter to get a piece of action, even make a few promises here and there. But you didn’t sleep with someone and then get them killed later. That’s what bothered him the most about this bizarre love triangle they had going on. He knew he was the last choice Charlie should ever make, even for a one night stand. He was too old, too tarnished and had basically ruined her life. Connor was closer to her age and was a good looking kid. But when it came down to it, Bass was always there. Charlie damn well knew he’d always come back for her, always protect her.

Connor? The kid would always be out for himself. Miles and Rachel had seen it from the moment they’d met him. In fact, it was something that Rachel had made her mission to constantly remind everyone. Surely Charlie could see it too? No one could be that stupid. He’d seen the way Charlie had regarded Connor prior to that night in New Vegas. It was the kind of look you’d give to a retarded puppy or a third grader. Like every time he opened his mouth, she was just humoring him.

Bass had refused her the night before their road trip because he’d cared enough about her to do so. Well, that and her offer had been insulting, like she’d only chosen him because she’d wanted to feel defiled. If she’d really wanted to fool around with Connor, she’d have gone to him first. He couldn’t blame her for not having known his feelings for her went beyond physical attraction. But, once he’d let on, her having went after Connor was a deliberate attempt to be cruel. And they both damn well knew it.

Being around her just pissed him off all the more, so the simple solution had been to go away. He had actually considered leaving the area. There were still a few places he might go where he could sit the whole thing out. He could go to California and then work his way into Canada. If the Patriots’ goal was to take back the old US, it was possible they’d stop at the border. Granted, the border had moved a bit. California had absorbed Vancouver several years ago. But there were still habitable areas to the north. And, it wasn’t entirely inconceivable to make it to Alaska. He’d heard that an occasional caravan still went north. People had survived there just fine before electricity, and so could he. Plus it was so far removed from the rest of the world, he doubted that anyone had heard of him. And, if they had, they probably wouldn’t give a damn at any rate. There was no one there he could have possibly wronged.

But in the end, he just couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t quit the Mathesons. He could pretend all he wanted to feel otherwise, but when the end came he wanted to be there. If Miles were to die, he’d be at his side. After all these years, he owed him that. Besides, someone had to make sure that she got out alive. Even before he’d realized his feelings for Charlie, Bass had made a decision. No matter what happened, he would keep her safe. It was the only penance he could think of to make up for his crimes. So he’d stay, even if it was just at a distance. He would protect the surrogate family he no longer had. He just wished doing so didn’t have to hurt so much.

It was getting late when Duncan finally approached him. She’d given him some space, but enough was enough. “Okay, you’ve sat here and brooded long enough.” She held out a flask in his line of sight as he put the gun back together. She’d known him well enough over the years to know that there was only one way to pull him out of this bad of a funk. He set the gun aside and took it from her, taking a long drink.

She leaned up against the other side of the tree for a few minutes, and let him enjoy the booze for a few minutes, before she finally spoke again. “Get up Sebastian, come with me.”

Bass looked up at her. He knew what she had in mind. He had half a mind to take her up on the offer. But he simply wasn’t in the mood. “With all due respect Duncan, the last thing I need right now is a woman.” He knew she was only trying to help. Well that and she was probably just horny and they’d always had a good time when they’d been together over the years.

“Wow Sebastian, you’ve really got it bad. Well, suit yourself. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She sauntered off then. She knew she should probably feel insulted, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to be. They had formed a unique friendship over the years. She did care about him, but she couldn’t claim to be in love with Sebastian by any means. She had been jealous when she’d first seen Charlie of course. Who wouldn’t be jealous over the prospect of being trade in for a younger model. But, now she just felt bad for him. Who knew that the woman that had finally trapped Sebastian Monroe would be the one he couldn’t have? Then again, that sounded exactly like Sebastian.

Bass watched her walk away. He briefly entertained the idea of following her. Maybe a fling with Duncan would be just the thing to get his mind off of his current woman problems. Then again, when had replacing one woman with another ever done a man any good? Resigned, he collected the gun and stood up to join the rest of the group to bed down for the night.

Within a few days, the rest of the men slowly arrived. They’d traveled in small groups to avoid notice. With this move being more permanent, they’d literally brought their whole encampment with them. Tents and other little creature comforts arrived with them. On the way, they’d taken out a small patriot outpost. Included in the extra supplies were a tent and cot for Bass to claim for his own. At least if he was stuck out here for the time being, he’d wouldn’t have to sleep in the open or on the ground. It wasn’t much, but it was some consolation for his current living arrangements.

The next few days, Duncan’s clan was concerned with setting up the camps and regrouping. Their arrival didn’t exactly mean they could just head off and start slaughtering patriots. They needed a game plan. Right now, Texas was still in bed with the assholes. Any attempts to simply take over Willoughby would earn them retribution by both the Patriots and the Texas Rangers. They couldn’t fight off both. They needed to find a way to get Texas to turn against the star-spangled imposters. They needed more intel, and what’s more important they needed proof about the Typhus.

That’s where some of Duncan’s men would come in handy. Willoughby was officially off limits. After the so-called epidemic had ended, the town had gone back on lock down. But there were other towns close by. And, if the patriots had tried it in one town, they likely had done something similar to others. Duncan’s men may be able to scout out the surrounding towns with little notice, while chipping away at the Patriot’s numbers a little bit at the same time. Bass and Miles didn’t have that option.

Duncan intended to make the camp Bass had taken up residence in as her main base. Scouts from the other two camps could serve as communication between them. It would have made more sense to Bass to leave him to keep an eye on things here while she lead form another camp, but he had little choice in the matter. They had arrived under her orders, not as mercenaries but as a tribe ready to remind the Patriots why they were called a warclan. Miles and Bass had no option but to see Duncan as an equal. And, right now she was the only one with any muscle to back up their plans.

With little to do for the time being, Bass made himself useful the only way he knew how – training. There were some members of the clan that were more green than others. And, who better to train them in combat than Sebastian Monroe? He worked from early morning until dusk with them, stopping only to take a meal here and there. At least the exercise kept his mind off of things to some extent, although it could not completely cool his anger when he thought of Charlie.

With each passing day, he was starting to get more restless. Who knew how long it would be before he’d finally see some action? With Tom Neville roaming the area, he couldn’t exactly go looking for trouble. If Miles’ suspicions were right, Tom may very be in league with the Patriots. That had always been Tom’s MO: Find whoever seemed to have the most power and try to ingratiate himself them and work his way up the chain of command. The man was smart, and he switched directions more frequently than the wind. The last thing they needed would be for Bass to call attention to himself and Duncan’s clan. If Tom found out about them before they were ready, he could very possibly destroy them all.

Patience was never one of Bass’ virtues, if he’d ever had any to speak of at all. He’d been able to fill his days up easily enough, but it was the nights that were the worst for him. This shouldn’t have been anything new to him. He couldn’t remember the last time that he wasn’t haunted by his memories and own thoughts in the night. In Philly he’d filled them with as much whiskey and women as he could handle. On the road with first Charlie and then with Miles, taking shifts keeping watch at least gave him something constructive to do with his insomnia. But now, there was nothing. Well, at least now there was whiskey. That was better than nothing. Despite the fact he’d decided not to sleep with Duncan, she at least was willing to keep him company to some extent, even though he knew he was starting to drive her nuts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited reunion...

Charlie had been resolved to give Bass some time to cool off and calm down before she tried to approach him again. She knew him well enough by now to know that if he had a feeling about anything, it was all or nothing. He loved or hated, with little in between. And when he was pissed, well he was fucking pissed. And right now that’s exactly what he was. She knew that his anger could last a long time. She was still hoping that he’d calm down enough to at least hear her out long enough to fix the fragile bond they’d once shared.

She'd decided to give it a week. By then, the rest of Duncan's men should have arrived. She was also hoping that by then Tom and Jason will have given up in watching her every move. At this point, they had not been doing a good job of hiding the fact that they obviously considered her the weakest link. She had only been home a few days before she noticed that she couldn't go anywhere without bumping into one of them. She had expected this, but it was starting to drive her crazy.

Apparently, it wasn't just her movements that drew attention. Connor had come to her one day whining about the same thing. "Charlie, we've got to do something about these guys. Tom actually followed me when I went to go take a leak in the woods. I get it - they're suspicious, but seriously? I can't even take a piss?" he'd complained.

By the week's end, Charlie's nerves were frayed. She could not put her confrontation with Monroe off any longer. Miles had inadvertently given her a window of opportunity with a supply run to a neighboring town. Always being the helpful one, Tom had decided to go with him. This left only Jason to distract. If she could get him to follow Connor for a while, it might give her an opportunity to get away unseen.

Charlie thought about ways to accomplish this. In the end, she simply decided to come right out and ask him. She approached him while Miles was preparing to leave with Tom early that morning. While Miles loaded the wagon, Tom was deep in discussion with Jason, likely giving him instructions. Connor was sitting up against the barn with a cup of what could have been coffee. She sat down next to him and watched the Nevilles with Miles.

"Hey," she wasn't quite sure how to begin.

"Well hey to you too." Connor tried not to react when she sat down. He could tell she was about to ask him for something.

"Looks like we're only going to have one shadow for the day," she said, offering a sly smile.

Connor looked at her, wishing she'd just come out with it. "Yep."

She crossed her legs at the ankles, trying to appear casual. She could tell Jason was watching them out of the corner of his eye. "Might make it easy for one of us to get away for a while without being seen."

Connor let out a low chuckle, amused by her attempt to appear so nonchalant. He knew exactly what she had in mind and where she wanted to go. "And let me guess, I'd make the perfect patsy?"

The way he put it did make it sound kind of bad. She winced at the way he said it. "If you'd be so kind?" She couldn't believe it, but she was practically begging.

Connor sat in silence for a while, watching Tom and Miles get up on the drivers bench at the front of the wagon. As the older men pulled out of view, Connor tilted his head to look at Charlie. She looked at him quizzically, as he suddenly stood up and practically shouted, "I told you I just need to get out of here for a while!"

His back was to Jason. He used the opportunity to send her a meaningful look, which spurred her into action. Jumping to her feet, she started to play along. "Miles said to stay here, are you stupid?"

"Since when do I ever do anything that asshole tells me to do!" Connor looked like he was actually starting to enjoy their mock argument. "I'm going, it's final."

He stalked off towards the barn and started saddling one of the remaining horses. Charlie followed him inside. "You're an idiot!" _Thank You!_ She mouthed before pretending to storm off. She passed Jason as she headed inside the cellar. She walked towards the stairs as Jason tried to look oblivious as he watched Connor take off on the horse.

Rachel and Gene gave her strange looks as she sprawled on the stairs to get a better look without being seen. "What was that all about?" Gene finally asked.

Charlie looked back at him and smiled. "Nothing," she tried to appear innocent, but her grandfather knew better. "Looks like Connor just needs to blow off some steam," she added.

Sure enough within half an hour, Jason had saddled the other horse and was following Connor. Connor knew he that Jason had caught up just enough to follow without being seen. He'd decided that if he was going to take one for Team Charlie, he'd at least have some fun while he was at it. There were two towns several hours south of Willoughby. They'd passed both on their way from Mexico. Miles and Tom were headed to one. Connor decided to head towards the other. He just took the most winding path he could think of to get there. _She owes me big time_ , he thought to himself as he deliberately went off course for a few miles just to annoy Jason.

Charlie lost no time making her move. She grabbed her crossbow and crammed a canteen and some food into her pack before she set off. "Where are you going, Charlie?" She hadn't counted on Rachel interfering.

"Since Jason seems to be distracted at the moment, I'm going to put this reprieve to good use. I'm going hunting while I have the chance." The lie rolled off her lips easily enough. Rachel and Gene were both very well aware that her previous attempts had been thwarted by Jason's surveillance. He had been scaring any possible game away.

"Be careful," Rachel warned as Charlie headed up the stairs.

Charlie arrived at the camp Bass was calling home late that afternoon. Deciding to wait until nightfall to confront him, she watched the camp from the woods, using the binoculars she'd lifted from Miles' pack the day before. The walk had been uneventful. She'd kept to the woods as much as she could, and had done her best to cover her tracks. Jason wasn't the worst tracker, but she knew he wasn't as good as Bass had been when he'd followed her to Texas from the Plains Nation. She crossed the creek that ran through the trees several times, hoping to throw him off.

After a few hours of watching the camp's activities, she was confident she knew which tent Bass was staying in. She'd idly wondered where the tents had come from, when it hit her that Duncan's clan would have brought their entire settlement with them. Warclans were nomadic, and it wasn't practical for that many men to sleep on bedrolls over a long period of time.

It was well after midnight before Charlie made her way quietly into the camp. She was lucky that Bass' tent was close to the outer perimeter. Allies or not, the men within were still members of a warclan. If they caught her, there was no telling what they would do to her before they realized who she was.

Unfortunately, she found the tent empty. It just now crossed her mind that he may very well be spending his nights with Duncan. Her heart sunk at this idea, but she could hardly blame him. He had history with her, and despite Duncan's initial insinuation that it had ended badly in New Vegas, they had fallen into a friendly pattern fairly early on the journey home.

As she considered this, she looked around. Bass' gear was stuffed haphazardly on one side of the tent. An old camping cot and a wooden crate turned on its end as a side table were the only furnishings. Charlie was roused from her dour thoughts by the sound of voices outside of the tent. "You know you don't have to spend the night alone, Sebastian." Duncan's voice wafted to Charlie's ears.

Charlie ducked into the corner of the tent, squatting behind the cot. If Bass brought Duncan into the tent, she was screwed. She held her breath, waiting for his response. "Thanks, but I'm good, Duncan." Charlie let her breath out slowly, relieved.

Bass entered through the flaps of the tent and stopped short. He instantly felt a presence in the tent. He slowly set the whiskey bottle in his hand down on the crate by the bed. He pulled the pistol out of the back of his jeans and quickly raised it. "You might as well come out," he warned. His voice betrayed how much he'd drank but Charlie knew his reflexes were still sharp.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie slowly stood and stepped forward out of the shadows to stand before him, her stubborn chin held high in defiance. The moment he registered that she was the intruder, he slowly lowered the gun and set it on the crate next to the bottle. He looked her up and down before he locked eyes with her. He did not look happy to see her.

Before she could say anything, he crossed the tent and grabbed her by the shoulders roughly. "What the hell are you doing here, Charlie?"

"I want to talk to you." She could feel the anger radiating off of him. _So much for him cooling down a little,_ she thought glumly.

"This is a warclan Charlie. Do you have any idea what they would have done to you if they'd caught you sneaking into camp? Do you ever think before you act?" He released her now and turned away, dragging a hand over his face in utter frustration. An image of her being drug off into the woods and raped had flashed in his mind the second he realized she was the one hiding in his tent. There were a few female clansmen, and yes their leader was a woman. Those women were off limits, but any other woman, well that was a different matter.

Charlie just stood there and stared at him. She'd been so ready to finally have it out with him while she'd been waiting, but now she was starting to lose her nerve. She'd hoped he would be a little happy to see her; It would have made things a little easier. She could see now that her presence only served to provoke him further, especially now that he'd been drinking – quite heavily by the look of him. "I-"

He cut her off before she could even begin. "You're leaving." He grabbed her arm and ushered her towards the front of the tent. She knew she would not win in a tug of war against him. He simply outweighed her by too much. Going back to her training, she did the only possible move in her repertoire: She went limp, throwing him off balance as she crumbled to the ground.

As he was stumbling over her, Bass realized that he should have been prepared for it. Hell, he'd been the one to teach her that move in the first place. They found themselves in a heap on the ground. As angry as he was, it was impossible not to see the humor in it. He clenched his jaw in an effort not to laugh as he attempted to untangle his limbs from hers.

Charlie was determined not to waste this opportunity. At the moment, she quite literally had a captive audience. Before he realized what she was about to do, she reached up and lightly stroked the back of his neck with her fingers, and lifted her head off the ground. She tentatively pressed her lips to his. When she'd come to him that night behind the barn, she had been all fire and passion. Not wanting him to think of that night, she deliberately kept her kiss tender and soft.

Bass froze the moment their lips met. He fought the urge to respond to her, pulling away. As he did, he looked down at her and saw the look of utter defeat on Charlie's face. "Don't push me away, please." Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes pleading. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to maintain his weakening resolve.

When he rested his forehead on hers, Charlie knew that at least for the moment he was hers. "Damn it," was all he said before he crashed his mouth down on hers.

"I'm so sorry," she said against his lips. Bass broke off the kiss and looked down at her again, waiting for her to continue. "I tried so hard to convince myself that you couldn't matter."

He fought down the urge to rail at her. Instead, he gently stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Why did it have to be Connor?"

She hesitated for a second, trying to find the words. He sighed heavily and rolled off of her. She thought morosely that her hesitance had ruined the moment when he reached out a hand to pull Charlie to her feet. He sank down onto the cot. Unsure, she slowly sat down as well, a couple of feet away from him. Shaking his head in exasperation, he reached over to her. "Come here," he said as he settled her into his lap. He brushed her hair out of her face with his hand. "Okay, spill."

"You were right. I wanted you that night, but I tried to make it feel cheap, so I could pretend it didn't mean anything. But it wasn't because I hate you. I don't hate you. I never hated _you_. Just the idea of you. Before, I didn't even know you. You were just General Monroe, this boogeyman that stole my family."

Charlie could feel Bass become tense at her words. His past would always come back to haunt him, no matter what he did in the future to make up for it. He knew he deserved it, but the constant reminder wore on him. "Charlie, I-"

She held up a hand to cut him off. "I wanted to keep hating you even after I actually got to know you. How do you admit that you have feelings for someone that caused you so much pain?"

Bass looked away from her as she spoke. He didn't know what he expected of her. He couldn't change the past. "If I could take it all back, I would, but that part of me will always be here."

"I know. And it is so much easier to say I hate the monster than it is to admit I love the man. So I just tried to deny it instead, and I hurt you because of it. And when you turned me down that night, I was angry, and then we got to New Vegas and I realized you'd been planning on meeting up with someone you'd been involved with, and I felt so stupid and jealous. Connor was just there, and a way to prove I didn't care. And, well you know the rest."

He leaned over and silenced her now with his mouth. Bass didn't know if he exactly forgave her, and he knew it didn't change much if he did. He ended the kiss, scooping her up as he stood. Charlie wrapped her arm around his neck to support herself. He held her there against his chest for a few minutes. Charlie leaned her head on his shoulder and looked up at him questioningly.

He turned and gently laid her on the far side of the cot. Without a word he sat down to take off his boots. When he turned to take hers off as well, she finally asked him, "So where does this leave us?"

He laid down next to her on the cot. "It's late. We're both tired, and I'm kind of drunk. Just leave it, Charlie. I'll take you back to your family in the morning. It's a long walk. There'll be plenty of time to figure it out then."

The cot was old and narrow. It had not been designed with two people in mind. After drawing up the blanket over both of them, Bass wrapped himself around her to keep from falling off as much as he did it to keep close to her.

His initial intent had been to just sleep, but the feel of her body against him was making that difficult. He stroked her face gently as he lowered his mouth to hers. She sighed into his mouth, her lips parting enough for him to deepen the kiss. He ran his hand from her shoulder to her hip, his hand resting there, pulling her closer.

Bass removed her clothing piece by piece until she lay nude beside him. He slowly explored her body with his hands and mouth. As he nuzzled her breasts, she reached up to pull his shirt off, desperate to feel his skin on hers. His muscles flexed under her touch. The shudder that went through him as she ran one hand down his chest aroused her further. She moaned and writhed as he tortured and teased her nipples with his lips.

He was determined to memorize every curve, knowing that this may very well be his only chance. He separated himself from her just long enough to kick off his jeans before joining her once again. Charlie rolled on top of him, capturing his mouth as he dug one hand into her hip, his other wrapped in her hair. He wanted her, now. He went to take control again when it registered with him that they were sliding off of the cot. He braced himself and rolled to take the brunt of the fall.

She pulled away in a daze and stared at him for a moment. "Oops," he said, smiling at her. They both erupted in laughter. He gently cupped her face, bringing it towards his as their laughter faded. As their lips met, he reached up and whipped the blanket off the cot, tossing it next to him before rolling her on to it. He settled himself between her thighs, spreading them with his hands.

Charlie watched Bass with hooded eyes as she he finally thrust himself into her. She wrapped her arms around him as he began to move within her. He claimed her mouth again as he set the pace, her hips rising to meet his thrust for thrust. "Like this," he murmured against her lips as he pushed them further to their breaking points. She knew then that this was how he'd wanted her the night she'd cornered him. Bass held her close as she shattered around him before he found his own release. Later, as he drifted off to sleep, Bass realized that he had already forgiven her. How could he not, after everything he'd done in the past? To do otherwise would make him hypocrite.

Charlie woke slowly as the sun began to rise. She was wearing one of his shirts. She must have gotten cold sometime in the night, but she couldn't recall when she'd put it on. She was currently alone in the tent. Stretching, thoughts of the previous night ran through her mind. Charlie smiled to herself, feeling better than she had in weeks. She knew she should probably be getting dressed, but instead she snuggled back down under the blanket.

Bass found her that way, already asleep again. He could see the top of her head poking out. Sighing, he spoke, effectively waking her up. "Planning on sleeping all day?" Charlie opened her eyes and peeked out from under the blanket. She watched as he set down a cup and a plate of what looked like beans and some type of meat.

"You're bringing me breakfast in bed?" she asked, offering him a sleepy grin.

He shook his head. Laughing, he sat down next to her on the cot. "Brat. Get up and eat. We've got a long day of walking ahead of us."

Charlie sobered at his mention of her going back. She sat up slowly, dreading it. He read her expression, his own softening. "You can't stay here, Charlie," he said as he leaned over to press his lips to her temple. "It isn't safe for you with the clan. Duncan's men or not, they won't hesitate if they catch you alone. You're too tempting." As he added that last part, he had slid a finger into the shirt she had wrapped around her, pulling it open to expose her breasts.

Playfully, she slapped his hand away as she reached for the cup of coffee and plate he'd brought. She offered to share, but he indicated he'd already eaten. As she ate he puttered around the tent, readying his pack and checking his pistol. He was trying to busy himself, trying to avoid the elephant in the room. Unable to keep herself quiet, Charlie finally spoke up. "So what now?"

Sitting back down, Bass watched her carefully before he responded. "I take you back and we wait for the next battle."

Charlie set the plate back down on the makeshift table. "So that's it? One night, see you later?"

Bass rested his elbows on his knees and looked at the ground. "What else are we supposed to do, Charlie? Where can this lead? I'd never had any intention of telling you how I felt for a reason. There's not future here."

Charlie stood up and slowly began to pull on her pants. "Why can't there be?"

He could hear the sorrow in her voice, which matched his own. "Even if we somehow survive all of this, what are you going to do? I told you before, I am a dead man no matter how this ends. If you stay with me, you'll only get caught in the crossfire." As he spoke, he watched her take off his shirt. That shirt was the last part of the previous night that had remained.

She abruptly turned around to face him now as she slipped her tank over her head. "After the Patriots are gone, we could always leave. There's got to be somewhere."

He put his head in his hands, desperate to get her to understand. "And what are you going to do when I die of old age at sixty and you're thirty-five and young and alone? Far away from everyone else you know? What then Charlie? People don't live as long as they did before the blackout."

Charlie had never thought of it that way. She knew he was so much older than her, but it never even crossed her mind they'd survive long enough for him to get old. "Then I will be grateful that either one of us lived that long."

He looked up at her incredulous. "You really are something, you know that?" He pulled her to him, and held her close, resting the side of his face up against her stomach. He was content to just sit there like that, when an anxious voice broke the peaceful silence that had settled.

"Monroe, you have to come quick. Charlie is missing." Bass turned his head to see Gene Porter panting in the entrance to the tent. In his panic, Gene had failed to notice the tent's other occupant. "She went hunting yesterday, and…" He interrupted himself as he did a double take, just now realizing who was in Bass' embrace. "Charlie?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's kind of in most fans head canons that Bass is the textbook definition for the ultimate shag. And, I could have written their scene a little sexier (and I might add another, more naughty chapter later) But I think given the way Charlie tried to make things cheap in chapter 1 that it was important for it to be more emotional than that, leaving the banging o' brains out for later, so I hope I didn't disappoint there after all of the buildup. Also, there have been so many fics with Miles catching them, that I thought I'd explore a new angle and have grandpa walk in. Other than the brief moments at his execution and after Bass brought Gene to Miles after the holiday break, there haven't been a lot of interactions between Bass and Gene on the show. I think there should be.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along...

Bass came up towards the surface to the feeling of warmth pressed up against his right side and a tickling sensation on his cheek. His eyelids remained heavy, so he just laid there for a few minutes. His chest hurt, the pain radiating out from a specific point to the right of his heart. Eyes still closed, he took stock of what he knew. His chest hurt and the rest of him was almost as sore. He was thirsty. He felt there was somewhere he needed to be, something he was supposed to be doing, but he couldn’t recall what. The warmth on his right side moved away just a little. He was sorry for its loss. It had felt nice.

His body instinctively tried to follow its source, but the pain prevented him from shifting. He groaned as he tried again to open his eyes. He heard a voice whisper his name. “Don’t try to move,” the voice told him. The voice was soothing and made him feel happy, better. He knew this voice, it was important to him. He struggled to pull above the depths that seemed intent on pulling him back down.

Why was he so damned thirsty? As if someone had read his mind, something wet touched his lips – a slow trickle. His lips parted, and he passively laid there, letting it run over his tongue, grateful. He floated a little higher now, more aware. A hand, gentle – stroking his forehead. A slight breeze – cooling his face.

He was tired, but he felt like he’d slept forever. He flexed his fingers, feeling the rough texture of old sheets. He was in an actual bed; that much he knew. Where was he? Finally he rose above the surface and slowly opened his eyes. The late morning sun shone through an open window, the curtains rippling gently in the breeze. He turned his head to look into Charlie’s anxious gaze. She was stretched out on the bed, propped up on her arm. Her hair must have been what had tickled is face.

Bass tried to lift his hand to touch her, but his body didn’t seem to want to cooperate. He had to settle for simply looking at her. At this moment, he couldn’t recall a more beautiful sight. “Hey. Thirsty?” He tried to respond, but his throat was so parched it came out as a croak; he nodded instead. She turned and reached over to the table beside the bed and grabbed the cup sitting there. She sat up and helped him lift up to drink. He supported himself on one elbow as she held the cup for him. “Slowly,” she instructed. The tepid water soothed his throat and brought him more into focus.

When he’d finished, she helped him ease back on the pillow before she resumed her earlier position next to him on the bed. “How long?” He asked her, gritting his teeth. Even talking hurt.

She stroked his forehead absently as she replied. “A few days. Was starting to worry you weren’t going to wake up.”

Bass tried to think back at what had landed him in his current state, but the truth seemed to slip further away the harder he tried. “What happened?”

Charlie frowned at his question with concern. This was not something she’d expected. “You were shot. Tom Neville. You don’t –you don’t remember?”

Bass closed his eyes. He furrowed his brow as he fought his cloudy mind, trying to focus and call the memory forth.

_Three days prior:_

_Gene Porter stands in the entrance of the tent. “Charlie?” he says, finally seeing who is there with Bass. He has taken it upon himself to fetch the man he blames for his grandson’s death in order to rescue his granddaughter. He is dumbfounded that same granddaughter is here, wrapped in this monster’s embrace._

_Bass jumps to his feet as soon as it settles on him Gene is the one that has intruded on them. He puts his body between Charlie and her grandfather, as though he can somehow buffer her from the confrontation that is to come._

_Despite all of his years as a soldier, he isn’t prepared for the fist that comes flying at his jaw. He simply didn’t think Gene had it in him. It is for that reason alone the punch hits its mark, forcing Bass to take a step back. Bass whips his head back at Gene and glares at his attacker. Charlie stands there slack-jawed. She is still trying to process the last thirty seconds._

_It is then that Gene realizes what he’s done. He has just sucker punched Sebastian Monroe, one of the most lethal men in North America. He visibly flinches, readying himself for the retribution that is sure to come. Bass furrows his brow, confused by Gene’s reaction._

_It suddenly dawns on him why Gene is the one flinching when it is Bass that has just taken the hit. “Relax Gramps. I’m not going to hit you. You’re old; I’d probably kill you.” Gene remains unconvinced. Bass sits down on his cot, trying to look less intimidating. Still in a daze, Charlie sinks down next to him. Not knowing what else to do with herself, she goes to look at the red mark now marring Bass’ jaw. She inspects it gently with her fingers. For a fleeting second, Bass enjoys the feeling of being tended to. But, the horror on Gene’s face as he watches them ruins the moment._

_Bass grabs her hand to push it away, squeezing it gently to soften the rejection of her aid. “What the hell are you doing here, Gene?” he finally asks. In his drunken haze and anger last night, it had not occurred to Bass that her family might be worried enough by her absence to come looking for Charlie here._

_Gene stares Bass down before replying, “When Charlie didn’t come back from her supposed hunting trip last night, we were worried she’d been taken by the Patriots. I came to get you. I thought you’d be able to help. Imagine my surprise…”_

_Bass’ mind starts racing. He stands up and starts packing the rest of his gear. Charlie watches in confusion. “Where are Rachel and Miles? Do they know you came here?”_

_“They’re out looking for signs of Charlie. They have no idea I’ve left.” Gene replies._

_Charlie starts to pull on her boots. As she laces them, she finally speaks up. “How did you get into the camp, Grandpa? It’s not like they’d just let you waltz on in.”_

_Gene is irritated that she is basically questioning his competence. He may be old, but he’s not helpless. “One of the guys guarding the camp brought me to a woman – at gunpoint I might add. I told her I was looking for Monroe and that my granddaughter Charlie was missing. She showed me which tent to go to.”_

_Bass raises an eyebrow about this. Duncan must have discovered Charlie was here. So much for her sneaking in sight unseen. “You two stay put. I’ve got to find Duncan. We might have a serious problem.”_

_Charlie stops what she’s doing to look up at Bass, a befuddled look on her face. “What?”_

_“Think about it. If the Nevilles really are up to something like we think, then they’ve been watching every move you make. If Rachel and Miles are looking for you, Tom knows they aren’t about to make a move. That means they may have noticed when Gramps left. They could have followed him here.”_

_Bass ducks out of the tent. He grabs the first guy he can find. “Where’s Duncan?” They man indicates her direction. Bass finds her inside her tent sorting through a few messages she intends to send to the other camps. “Good morning, Sebastian. Isn’t it a bit early to look so worked up?”_

_He can hear a slight chill in her voice, confirming she’s aware of his overnight companion. He isn’t sure if she’s jealous or if she’s just annoyed at the intrusion to her clan. “We’ve got a problem, Duncan.”_

_“Oh, and what would that be?” She asks._

_Bass hesitates for a few moments and then comes out with it. “Rachel Matheson’s father showed up this morning looking for Charlie.”_

_Duncan crosses her arms over her chest, clearly bored. She doesn’t have time to listen to information she already knows. “Who do you think showed him where your tent was?”_

_“Yeah, thanks for that by the way. A little warning next time? Anyway, that’s not the problem. This camp has just been compromised. Porter doesn’t know how to cover his tracks. He may have led Neville right to us. And if he knows you’re here it won’t be long until the Patriots do.” Bass knows in his gut that Gene was followed. Even though they would have no way of knowing about the other two camps, the element of surprise has still been lost._

_Duncan turns back to the instructions she’d been preparing. She tears them up, knowing they will have to be changed. “How much time do you think we have?” The last thing she wants is a sudden attack on her camp. Even if they win that one battle, it could cost them the war._

_Bass thinks about this for a few seconds, trying to weigh every variable. “No telling. Porter arrived on horseback, right?” Duncan nods. “If Neville is on foot, then he may not have even finished tracking him here yet. If he’s on horseback, he could be halfway to Truman by now.”_

_“Or, he may not have even followed.” Duncan throws it out there. Bass had always been a little on the paranoid side, even when he wasn’t nuts._

_He shakes his head. “No, he followed. I can feel it.”_

_Bass and Duncan discuss one option after another until they finally agree on a plan. He heads back to his tent to collect Charlie. When he enters, Charlie and Gene are exactly as he left them. Charlie still sits on his cot and is staring down Gene with that stubborn look that he’s come to love. “Get your stuff Charlie, We’re leaving.”_

_She slowly rises and goes to collect her pack and crossbow. “Where to?”_

_Bass sighs deeply as he walks over to her. He gently lays his hands on her shoulders. “For the moment, back to your family.” He sees the hurt in her eyes. “We have to move the camp. The men will split up and join the other two camps. Duncan will probably move them too, just in case.”_

_Charlie backs away. She knows that if Tom really has followed, it could mean a patriot attack is eminent. He’s talking about facing an attack without her. “No. If you’re staying, so am I.”_

_“We talked about this, Charlie. You can’t stay with the warclan. It’s not safe for you here,” Bass argues._

_Charlie stomps over to the cot and sits down. She’s determined to have her way. “It won’t be any safer for you if the Patriots show up.”_

_Bass kneels in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Which is just another reason for you to go. If Neville does lead them to us, I don’t want you anywhere near here.”_

_“And who’s going to watch your back during the fight? Someone’s gotta protect your ass.” She asks stubbornly._

_Bass is trying to get her away to protect her, and yet here she is insisting on protecting him. The absurdity of it all strikes Bass. He lets out a low chuckle and kisses her lightly. “I’ve got an entire warclan for that. Besides I’m not that easy to kill. After all, I’m Sebastian Monroe,” he adds wryly. Bass runs a knuckle down the side of her face. “I was wrong before. I do care about this fight. The outcome may not change my future, but it does have a profound effect on yours. That I care about very much.”_

_Gene clears his throat time remind them of his presence. “You know, there is another option.” He waits for their attention before continuing. “If the cat is out of the bag, we could all stick together. There’s no point in staying away if Neville knows about the warclan. It would be safer than waiting for the Patriots to attack us in our sleep.”_

_Bass has not considered it before. With Tom and Jason staying at the barn, it wasn’t possible. But now, it may not matter anymore, if they could manage to get everyone to the other camps without the Nevilles seeing. “We can talk about it when we get there. Duncan is sending scouts out to look for Neville. If they can find him, it might not be an issue.”_

_They prepare to leave. Duncan does not have the horses to spare for Charlie and Bass, so they leave the one Gene had ridden with the clan and take off on foot. They are wary. Bass keeps his eyes open, ready to spring into action if needed. Charlie walks with her crossbow out, a bolt already loaded. They aren’t even an hour outside of the camp when Bass hears something. He draws his pistol, holding it at ready._

_Tom Neville steps out of the woods to confront them, a Patriot rifle in his hands, pointed directly at Bass. “Good morning Monroe. Fancy meeting you here.”_

_Bass instinctively raises his handgun, pointing it at Tom. Charlie has her crossbow pointed at him as well. “Neville.”_

_Tom smiles craftily as he takes a step towards them. “That was a nice trick, Charlie – Keeping Jason busy so you could sneak off. You had to know someone would come looking for you though. Funny how Grandpa knew exactly where to find you.”_

_Tom’s advance is making Bass nervous. “That’s close enough, Tom. Put the gun down. You shoot me, she’ll shoot you.”_

_They hear a gun cock behind them. While their attention has been on Tom, Jason has doubled back and snuck up on them from behind. Charlie turns and points her crossbow at Jason, leaving Bass to stare down Tom. “Oh, I don’t think so, General.” Both Jason and Tom’s guns are aimed at Bass. Tom laughs. “I think I’m going to really enjoy this.”_

_“We’ve got enough problems around here, Tom. There’ll be time for payback later.” Bass has figured out now that he must have been the target all along. He doesn’t know how Tom as discovered he is still alive, but he’s hoping that the Patriots have nothing to do with it. If it’s all about revenge, just maybe he can talk him down._

_“As much as I really will love to see you finally dead, you can’t honestly believe this is about petty vengeance. Just following orders, plain and simple.” He addresses Jason then.” Take the shot, boy.” There is something in his eyes that makes Bass nervous. Why make Jason do the shooting?_

_Bass glances at Jason for a split second before turning his attention back to Tom. Jason hesitates. He sees the way that Charlie is watching him, but he sees something strange in her expression when Tom tells him to shoot Monroe. It sinks in why Charlie snuck out the previous day, and why she is still here with him now. If Rachel and Miles were worried it was because they didn’t know. She’s snuck off to be with Monroe. Part of him is disgusted, but he now knows she will be hurt when Monroe dies. He still cares enough for her for that to give him pause. “I said, take the shot boy.”_

_Bass stares Tom down. Tom tightens his grip on the rifle he carries. It’s a clear indication he’s going to shoot, but as he does so, the barrel moves ever so slightly. He catches the almost unnoticeable shift in Tom’s gaze. Bass suddenly realizes that it’s not him that Tom is getting ready to shoot. The world slows down for Bass as he weighs his options: If he takes a shot at Tom, the bastard could still hit his mark. Gene is not armed, so no help. He only has one choice, so he makes it. He throws himself in front of Charlie as a shot rings out. The impact throws him back._

_At that moment, four men come rushing out from the woods. The scouting party that Duncan sent out has arrived a moment too late. One of them tackles Jason before he can react. Jason is knocked unconscious in the struggle. Tom takes to the woods, shooting blindly behind him as he runs. The other three clansmen take cover until the shots die before following in pursuit._

_Charlie drops her crossbow and falls to the ground at Bass’ side. Gene jumps into action, running over to check him. The bullet has entered his chest barely missing his heart. Gene runs his hand under Bass, checking for an exit wound. None is to be had. The bullet needs to come out. He has the training to do this, but his tools are limited. Being a doctor, he was smart enough to leave with some things, but he didn’t bring his entire bag with him._

_Having heard the shots, two more of Duncan’s men come crashing through the woods from the direction of camp. Gene pulls Bass’ jacket off. He begins cutting away his shirt with the knife he removed from his patient’s belt. The damage from the bullet is extensive. It will be a miracle if he doesn’t bleed out on the ground. “Build a fire,” he orders the clansmen. They look at him blankly. Who is this crazy old man that has ordered them to start making camp in the middle of the road. “I’m a doctor dammit. I’ve got to operate on him now before he bleeds to death. Just do it.” They nod at each other and get started in their task. Jason has regained consciousness. The third man has tied him up, and is holding a gun on him now._

_Charlie springs into action. She empties her pack out, setting aside anything she thinks might be useful. She has an extra shirt and her canteen. There’s a small utility knife as well. She runs over to Gene’s backpack and opens it up. She begins setting what little her grandfather has packed and sets each instrument out on Bass’ jacket. Finished with this task, she starts to cut her spare shirt into strips. While he waits for a fire to sterilize his instruments, Gene takes off his flannel shirt and uses it to put pressure on the wound._

_A campfire is slowly coming to life nearby. Gene has Charlie hold the shirt in place while he sterilizes each piece in the flames. He holds out his hands. Charlie dumps the contents of Bass’ flask over them. Taking her utility knife in one hand and a pair of forceps in the other, he gets to work digging the bullet out of Bass’ chest. While he works, he instructs Charlie on keeping track of Bass’ pulse. He works quickly to dislodge the bullet. It has hit a rib, which may very well have saved his life. The bone has prevented the bullet from going further._

_When the bullet comes out, blood spurts from the wound. Charlie is ready. She stuffs strips of her shirt into the gaping hole, trying to stop the bleeding. One of Duncan’s men brings a burning stick over. He has seen enough field operations to know that Gene will have to cauterize the wound closed in hopes of getting the bleeding to stop._

_Gene takes what looks like a letter opener and holds it into the flames, waiting until it is red with heat. He nods at Charlie, who removes her makeshift gauze. The blade goes into the wound, sizzling as it touches flesh. Gene repeats the process several times until he is satisfied the bleeding has slowed enough to move him. The scarring will be great, but it’s not like the man isn’t scarred anyway. His body has obviously seen a lot of action over the years._

_Finished, he checks Bass’ pulse. It is thread and fast. He doesn’t like it. They have to get him out of here. He shares his thoughts with Charlie and the two clansmen. Charlie has stamped the fire out. One of the clansmen picks Bass up in a fireman carry. The other two are tasked with keeping Jason in line. They hurry back down the road towards Duncan’s camp. As they walk, it dawns on Gene exactly what Bass was doing when he was shot: He had stepped between Tom and his granddaughter. He was hurt saving her life, taking a bullet for her. He has a new found respect for the former General and becomes more determined to make sure Bass lives._

_Chaos erupts around them as they arrive back at camp. Duncan sends a rider out to bring Miles, Rachel and Connor to the camp. Gene instructs them to make sure Rachel brings all of his medical supplies. Bass is brought to his tent. Charlie stays at his side. Gene checks on his patient. He is pale, clammy. Gene worries that he has lost too much blood._

_Gene charges out of the tent. He is met by Duncan. “Well Doc, how’s he doing?”_

_He can tell she is worried. Whoever this warlord is, she cares about Sebastian Monroe. “He’s lost a lot of blood; he may not make it through the night.”_

_Duncan does not accept his medical opinion. “Well, give him some then.”_

_While Gene appreciates her candor, he does not appreciate her lack of medical knowledge. “I won’t have the equipment until Rachel and Miles get here. And it’s not as simple as that. He needs a lot of blood. With large quantities, it needs to be an exact match. And, I don’t know his blood type. Miles might know, but again, he has to get here first.”_

_Duncan’s eyes widen. She’s gotten an idea. “I might be able to help with that. Wait here.”_

_She returns a short time later. She holds something out to Gene, metal plates hanging from a chain. He realizes they are dog tags. He is confused until it dawns on him that one of the pieces of information that dog tags contain is blood type. He reads them carefully. They are old and worn, but the information is still faint. “How did you get these?” Gene asks absently as he looks them over._

_She gestures at the rings that still hang from the chain. She hadn’t had time to trade them for anything. “Payment for services rendered. He wanted her safe. This was part of the cost.”_

_Gene nods in understanding. He doesn’t know who the rings belonged to, but they were obviously important to Monroe if he’d kept them on a chain – Another reminder that he must care for his granddaughter very deeply. How did no one see this coming? He turns the tags over to view the back side. The front rusted slightly where the blood type is listed, but the indentations are still there. “A positive. We need to find someone that is A positive, preferably someone who’s, well sober and clean. My daughter is, but I can’t ask her to give blood to him of all people.”_

_Duncan starts to get offended on behalf of her men, but realizes he has a point. These are clansmen. They like their booze, but the last thing Bass needs is more alcohol in his bloodstream right now. The big problem is finding someone who even knows their blood type. Many of her clansmen were just teenagers when the power went out. They would have no way of knowing. She motions to one of her men to spread the word._

_Gene enters the tent, finding Charlie on her knees by Bass’ side, unshed tears rimming her eyes. There is nothing they can do for the time being, so they wait. Hours later Miles rushes into the tent, Connor and Rachel not far behind. Rachel hands Gene his medical bag. He digs through it and pulls out a field transfusion kit he had stolen from the Patriot’s quarantine camp. “He needs blood. Even then it may be too late. Charlie, go see if Duncan has found a match.”_

_Rachel looks at him, confused. “Dad, I’m a match.” She pulls off her jacket and begins to roll up her sleeves._

_Gene sighs. “Rachel, I won’t ask you to do this for him.”_

_“Dad, the man that came for us told me what Monroe was doing when he was shot. I’ll do it.” She is resolved. She doesn’t yet know why Charlie was here all night. Indeed, she doesn’t want to know right now. But Bass has saved her daughter, so she will help him now._

_Gene nods and then turns to Miles “Go get another cot. She will need to lay down level with him.” He turns to get the kit ready for use. By the time that Charlie returns with one of the clansmen, Rachel is almost finished. Gene pulls the needle from her arm. She recovers from her donation while Gene prepares the needle for the next donor. Miles leads her off as the man takes her place on the cot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s just something about an incapacitated Bass that I like. I know I kinda went this route in my other story, but this time, happier results. I hope I do not annoy with the whole flashback thing in this story. The first season especially used flashbacks to explain a lot, so in some ways, I’m kind of relying on that format to move the story along. I think maybe one or two more chapters and an epilogue? What say you? As always any thoughts, comments, suggested or criticisms are appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hope this doesn’t seem too rushed. I have a sneaking suspicion that the show is going to do it’s best to further crush all hopes of Charloe, so I wanted to finish this fic before Wednesday’s episode. I’ve already gotten the epilogue written, so I just have to figure out how to get them there. I think I can do that with just one more chapter.

With Charlie’s help filling in the blanks, Bass recalled most of what happened leading up to his having been shot. Tom Neville was in the wind. He had been able to evade capture. His son was still in captivity, but he’d yet to start talking. After Bass had stabilized, Gene and Charlie had left with him late that night. They were staying in an abandoned farm about 40 miles southwest of Willoughby. Miles, Rachel and Connor were with Duncan’s warclan not far away. Given the circumstances, Duncan had made the decision to keep the clan together for the time being.

Shortly after Bass had finally come around, Gene came in to check on his patient. Bass stayed propped up in the bed patiently as Gene used the stethoscope to listen to his heart, idly playing with Charlie’s fingers. Gene clenched his jaw, trying very hard to not notice this interaction. Whether or not Bass had almost died saving his granddaughter, Gene still didn’t need the constant reminder that they were involved. Rachel and Miles knew something was going on now, but had yet to have a chance to react. Bass had been too close to death, and Charlie had simply been too distraught. Now that the former general was awake, there was bound to be a confrontation sooner or later.

“For being so notoriously good at killing, you seem to be absolutely horrible at dying,” Gene remarked as he wrapped the aging blood pressure cuff around Bass’ bicep. So far, his vitals were good. “Looks like you’re going to be just fine.”

Bass rolled his eyes at Gene’s previous comment. “Good, we’ve got a lot to do.”

Gene removed the cuff and shoved an old mercury thermometer in Bass’ mouth, effectively shutting him up. “You’re not going anywhere for at least a weak. You literally almost died. We had to give you blood twice. You’re not going to waste all my efforts just to overdo it and die anyways.”

Spitting out the thermometer Bass started to argue. “I appreciate the help, Doc. But the patriots are breathing down our necks. I’ve got to get back. He struggled to get up, but found himself being shoved back down by both Charlie and Gene. Frustrated he flopped back against the pillows.

“One week, Doctor’s orders.” Gene repeated. Eyeing Bass nervously, he walked over to the old dresser, on top of which they’d stashed Bass’ belongings. He reached out and grabbed Bass’ sword belt and pants for emphasis and quickly left the room with them.

Charlie stifled a laugh. “Well, you’re not going anywhere unarmed or without pants, now are you.”

Bass groaned, half in irritation, half with pain. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Depends on which side of the bed you’re on.” She leaned down and kissed him quite loudly on the forehead. “You’re probably hungry. I’ll go find you something to eat, behave yourself while I’m gone.”

Defeated, Bass closed his eyes and rested while she went downstairs. A short while later Charlie returned with some type of soup and some rather dry homemade bread. It wasn’t the best meal he’d ever had but for a man who hadn’t eaten in several days it would do. She removed the tray from his lap and went to leave. “Stay.” Charlie turned in the doorway and looked back at him. He gave her his most pitiful look. “Please?” He hated being stuck in the bed alone, and wasn’t above resorting to begging.

Charlie set the tray down with an exaggerated sigh. She climbed into the bed with Bass, careful not to jar him. He captured her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing each finger. She giggled at the contact. She leaned over and kissed him. He was content to lay there and let her take the lead. He passively let her explore his mouth with her tongue, moaning as she became more urgent.

Afraid that she might have hurt him when Bass moaned, she started to pull back. He lifted his head off the pillow to follow her mouth, placing his hand on the back of her head to hold her to him. She leaned forward once more, allowing him to lie back down again. He reached up and cupped a breast with his hand and smiled against her mouth when he felt the nipple pucker under his thumb. She arched her back, pressing her breast further into his hand as he teased her.

Charlie ran a hand down Bass’ side, carefully avoiding his chest. This earned her another moan when her hand reached his hip. She broke off their kiss and looked down to see the blankets had recently achieved a new elevation. She pulled them back to reveal his hardness. She chuckled suggestively as she wrapped her hand around the shaft and stroked him lightly. Bass flexed his hips, silently urging her to continue.

She captured his mouth again and their tongues met as she stroked him again more firmly. Idly she thought that this probably wasn’t conducive to recuperation, but she found herself too aroused at the moment to care. She rolled off the bed then. He moaned in frustration as she stood, watching her as she slowly removed her clothes for him. It was torturous to watch, but soon she rejoined him on the bed.

Charlie straddled him, rubbing herself on his erection. They both moaned at the contact. Bass reached up with both hands and resumed his sweet torture, rolling her nipples gently with his fingers. Charlie gasped as he aroused her further. “You’re killing me Charlie. Now.” He panted, as she ground herself against him.

Charlie shifted her hips and slid herself down on him, sheathing him completely. She reveled in the feeling as he filled her, stretching to accommodate him. His hands slid down from her breast to her hips as she began to ride him. He flexed his hips, thrusting himself inside her each time she slid back down on him. Charlie arched her back and closed her eyes. She had to fight the urge to lean forward and kiss him but she was afraid to lean to close to his chest, so instead she leaned backward, which allowed him to fill her more deeply.

His breath became more ragged. Bass watched her face as she came down again and again riding him faster to bring them both closer. She bit her lip trying hard to stifle her moans. He reached his climax a split second before she did. As he spilled himself into her, she came down on him one last time, bottoming out. He hit her cervix as she came down, and she could feel him explode deep inside her. The feeling was erotic and pushed her over the edge, sending her into her own orgasm. She shattered around him, bearing down as she convulsed. His fingers dug into her hips as he held her down on him, riding out the waves of his own release.

She stayed there for a few minutes, her hands resting on his hips before climbing off and laying down next to Bass. She reached down and pulled the blankets down over them, as her head joined his on the pillow. He leaned over and captured her mouth, kissing her gently, his tongue moving slowly and sensually against her own. His instinct was to pull her over to him, but his wound prevented this. He grabbed her hand instead and held it against his stomach as they slowly drifted off together.

Bass woke up a short time later. He could tell by the sounds of her breathing that she was still asleep. As he laid there content to simply listen to her quiet breaths, the enormity of the events leading them here hit him. Tom could have killed her, and the bastard had nearly done him in instead. But, here they were, both very much alive. Had that morning gone differently, Charlie would be back in the safe house, and he would be sleeping alone in his tent, missing her (albeit feeling a lot less like a piece of Swiss cheese). Any plans he’d had of backing away had ceased the moment he’d come to, finding she hadn’t left his side.

The change in her breathing told Bass that she was slowly starting to rouse. The suns last rays were shining in the window, casting their warm glow all around her. He found the effect mesmerizing as he watched her awaken. “Hey there,” she said to him sleepily, smiling a little as she burrowed her face into his shoulder.

He chuckled at her greeting. “Hey there to you, sleeping beauty.” He playfully tugged on a lock of her hair.

Charlie rolled away in mock protest. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve recently had a gaping hole in my chest,” he said with a wicked grin. “But hey, at least I got lucky.” She got up and yanked the blankets over his head, obstructing his view of her bare bottom. He pulled the blanket back as she was stepping into her jeans. _Darn the luck_ he thought to himself. “Care to bring your man some food?” He added, hopefully as he watched her get dressed.

Charlie turned back to him as she lowered her tank top over her head. She offered him a smirk as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned up against the dresser. “Oh, so you’re my man now are you?”

“Do you have any other viable candidates for the job?” He asked, pretending to be offended.

Charlie tapped her finger to her chin. “Hmmm… Let me think.”

“Watch it, woman. I took a bullet for you,” he reminded her, pointing to his chest.

She sat down on the bed next to him. He rolled over on his side, grunting and wincing as he moved. Her expression was serious now. “What happened to there’s no future here?”

Bass sighed deeply, looking away. “That was before your life flashed before my eyes. Before I realized that Tom decided to shoot you,” he said quietly. He looked up again and locked eyes with her. “If we somehow manage to survive the Patriots, I still think that this won’t end well, but I won’t be the one doing the leaving.”

“Oh, we most definitely won’t survive the Patriots. But, if we actually do, we’ll find someplace where no one cares about the past, and we will be just fine. And then I’ll get to tell you ‘I told you so.’ And you’ll have to admit I’m right.” She stuck her tongue out at him before getting to her feet.

He couldn’t help but laugh. He had no idea how someone could be so pessimistic in once sentence, but then optimistic in the next, but somehow she managed to pull it off just beautifully. “If you say so. Now feed me, woman. Recuperation sex is hungry work.” Charlie rolled her eyes as she left the room with the tray from earlier, but she did return with food an hour later. He was sure she’d decided to make him pay for his comment by making him wait a little longer than necessary.

Later that evening, after another checkup from Gene and a stern warning to take it easy (which earned a blush from both Charlie and Bass), they settled in for the night. Bass briefly considered going against the doc’s orders, but he was simply too drained to fool around. He held her as best he could, and they went to sleep.

The next morning, the others arrived from Duncan’s camp. Gene had sent an update back to the camp the previous afternoon. It had been late when they’d been told, so they had agreed to wait until first light to head out. Gene was enjoying a cup of coffee in the kitchen when the trio entered the farmhouse. As Rachel stopped to greet her father, Miles and Connor headed towards the stairs. “I’d knock if I were you!” Gene called after them.

Rachel looked at Gene quizzically. “Dad, where’s Charlie?”

Not wanting to be the one to explain just what direction their relationship had taken, Gene just looked up, hoping and fearing at the same time that she’d catch his meaning. The look on her face suggested that indeed she had. Rachel headed towards the stairs two at a time. Whether it was in anger, or because she wanted to stop Miles from just barging in, Gene wasn’t sure. It dawned on him that between Rachel and Miles, one of them might just undo all of his hard work at keeping Monroe alive. Sighing as he abandoned his coffee he followed them up the stairs.

Miles did have the good manners to follow Gene’s advice and knock. He also had the good manners to wait for Bass to respond, “Hold on a second.” Those good manners were wearing thin along with Miles’ patience by the time he’d finally been told it was okay to enter the room. Charlie was dressed, but he could tell by her sleep tousled hair and the look in her eyes that he may have interrupted something.

“You do realize that the second you’re better, I’m going to kill you, right?” Miles stared at the two of them stretched out on the bed. Bass was still nude under the covers (thanks to his stolen pants), and Miles was pretty sure that Charlie’s position on the bed was strategically chosen to block his view from seeing something he definitely didn’t want to see.

Charlie and Bass had already decided that the best defense they had against her family when they finally grasped that they were going to be together was simply to ignore all questions, refuse to explain themselves and change the subject. Really, it was none of their business. They were adults, they were consenting, and they were all probably going to die anyway. The tactic actually had worked better than they’d expected. They had the decency to keep the pda to a minimum to not shove their relationship down Miles and Rachel’s throats.

It was different for Gene. He had watched Bass take that bullet. In desperation, he’d seen the monster of the Monroe Republic turn his own body into a human shield to save his granddaughter’s life. It was an act of love and selflessness. It made his accepting the relationship between the two easier for him. And, when Rachel and Miles sat at the table in the kitchen debating who had the privilege of smothering Monroe in his sleep, he told them as much. Rachel had known he’d saved her but hadn’t quite learned the circumstances before now. It made her regret giving them man her blood a little less, but not by much.

Despite 40 years of history and his inability to kill Bass in the past, Miles was the hardest one to calm down. It was Rachel of all people that finally got through to him. “Think about it, Miles. At the very least, we know he will protect her. I don’t want to watch another child die. And every time we face the Patriots, I have to think about her getting killed. For some reason, she’s got him taking bullets for her. When it all comes down to it, he may be the best one to keep her safe. If he cares about her, he will fight to keep her.”

Miles had to acknowledge she was right. Bass had lost so many people he loved, he held on to the ones he had left like his life depended on it. And, in some ways his life probably did. Deep down Miles knew that if Bass was the only one from their group to survive the next few weeks, he wouldn’t survive much longer. He’d finish what he’d started in that cemetery in Jasper long ago.

Over the next few days, Bass was the worst possible patient. He was bored, plain and simple. Gene had threatened Bass with having Miles drag Charlie off to the warclan camp if he didn’t keep his dick to himself until he was well. That took away his favorite way to pass the time. The long hours in bed had been broken only by a few quick trips to the chamber pot and back.

Seeing his father so close to death had certainly given Connor a new perspective on their relationship. He spent several hours at a time with Bass to give Charlie a reprieve from Bass’ impatience more than anything. In that time, he realized there was more to his father than what he’d heard through rumor. He’d asked Bass about his side of the family, and although it was still painful to talk about, he told Connor stories about his parents and sisters.

Despite his initial hesitance to discuss them, he realized that this was the only way for them to be passed on through Connor. It dawned on Bass that telling his son about home somehow made the grief he’d carried all these years just a little lighter. When Connor had first come to Texas, his one concern had been getting the Republic back so that it could replace the position he’d lost with Nunez. He’d simply seen his father as a means to that end. Otherwise, he was simply the monster that had taken him away from his peaceful life in Jasper. Now he saw the man that his father was underneath it all. It was still a far cry from ashtrays on Father’s Day, but it was a slow start.

Miles came to see him daily as well. Usually the visits started with some threat of bodily harm because of Charlie. By the third such visit, the threats had lost any weight, and simply made Bass laugh. Miles and Rachel might not like what was going on, but other than shooting him and causing her grief there was little they could do about it. She had given Bass a reason to truly care about this fight, and he wasn’t going to let go of her, and he was damn sure to make sure Miles knew it.

Miles and Duncan both discussed strategy with him during his convalescence. If they were going to form any kind of strategy regarding the patriots, they needed to get Jason Neville to talk. Duncan and Miles both suggested forcing him, but Bass of all people was the one to reject the idea. He and Charlie had both noticed that when it came to shooting him, Jason had hesitated. Bass wasn’t sure why, but he knew deep down it was important. And, despite the fact that there was nothing left there, Jason had once been important to Charlie. Torturing Jason would only hurt her. If it could be avoided at all costs, he would.

Duncan had found the solution to their Jason problem the evening before Bass officially cleared to rejoin the world of the living. One of her scouts had brought her a newspaper from Austin, Bass could barely believe his eyes as he read the article she’d thrust under his nose. President Davis had apparently died of a heart attack.

Because the U.S. Government currently lacked a legislature as well as a Vice President, and there was no active electoral college, the late president’s cabinet had elected Secretary Victor Doyle as acting President until such time that the union could be reformed and an election held. The Sovereign Nation of Texas had been currently hosting Doyle and his wife as emissaries from its new U.S. ally at the time of Doyle’s election. The picture that went with the article was of President Elect Doyle and the new First Lady Rebecca Doyle. But it was clear to Bass exactly who the woman was – That was Juiia Neville if he ever saw her. To the left of Doyle was a smiling Tom Neville. The article went on further to state that Neville had been appointed Secretary of Foreign Affairs by Doyle.

Bass tossed the paper to Miles. “Well, I think we’ve got a way to get to our captive now. His own parents either set him up or simply sold him out. I always knew Julia was just as conniving as Tom.”

Miles nodded. “I’ll show him this in the morning before I try to question him again.”

“No. Let me do it,” Bass replied. He had thought about this more than once. He and Jason had a few things in common. They both harbored feelings for Charlie, and they had both now been screwed over by Jason’s father. Armed with what they knew now, he might be the best person to get him to talk willingly.

Discussing it further, Duncan and Miles agreed to give Bass the chance. They took their leave of him as Charlie entered the room. It was getting late, and while Bass might be sick of lying in that bed, she was determined to put it to good use. The morning would see her and Bass returning to Duncan’s camp. She wanted one more night with him in a comfy bed before returning to that narrow cot, and as far as she was concerned her grandfather could take his so-called orders and shove them.

Charlie closed the door behind her and turned around to give Bass a wicked grin. He grinned back as he pulled back the covers. She practically ripped off her clothes before diving in the bed to join him. “Wanna play?” He teased as he pulled her close and kissed her greedily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S: Ha ha, told you there’d be another naughty scene ;-)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter (followed by an epilogue). I didn’t want to simply stop writing it, so I thought it needed some type of resolution. But, with the show finally picking back up tonight (yay!) I didn’t want to keep going on this one tangent indefinitely. I’m sure the show will give us new things to think and write about. Warning: minor character death confirmed with major character deaths implied, but not yet proven or disproven (will be addressed in epilogue!).Thank you to anyone who has read, and a super thanks to comments, faves etc.!

Bass entered the tent that Duncan had ordered to be Jason’s prison. For more than a week he’d been tied up and lashed to the chair. He’d only been allowed a few short reprieves daily to eat and relieve himself. Every day he’d been questioned by both Miles and Duncan; however he’d refused to give them any information. As Bass entered, he watched warily. “Leave,” Bass ordered the guard currently assigned to watch him.

Monroe’s presence filled Jason with dread. He was fully well aware of some of the tactics Monroe had used to interrogate prisoners in Philly. Very few had ever been able to resist giving the man what he wanted. In fact, to Jason’s knowledge Rachel Matheson had been the only one to hold out for any length of time. He didn’t know what this monster had in store for him, but he knew that the end result would be his death.

Bass walked around Jason, eyeing him carefully. Despite the fact that Jason was keeping his features passive, he could practically feel the terror radiating off of him. He let the anticipation of what was to come hang in the air a few more minutes as he considered where to start. Finally he picked up the other chair in the tent and placed it in front of Jason, only a few feet away. He sat down and leaned towards his quarry, resting his elbows on his knees. “We need to have a little chat, Jason,” he began.

Jason simply stared at him, determined to hold out as long as he could. He knew that it was entirely possible he’d be spilling his guts before long if the torture was bad enough, but he was determined to make Monroe work for it.

“Listen kid,” Bass continued, his eyes never leaving Jason’s. “I’m about the only thing right now that’s kept you alive and in one piece. It’s really in your best interest to cooperate.” Bass straightened in his chair and leaned back to wait.

Jason processed those words carefully. “What do you mean?” He couldn’t quite stop himself from asking.

Bass leaned towards Jason again, doing his best to look almost friendly. If he was going to get the kid to talk, he had to earn his trust. “Do you really think that Miles and Duncan Page wanted to wait a whole week to get you talking? If they’d had their way, we’d be mailing your body parts to DC by now.”

Jason flinched at the image that those words brought to his mind. “And why would you stop them?”

Bass stared Jason down for several moments before he responded. “Because you used to mean something to her, so she might be upset if we torture you.” Bass knew he didn’t have to explain who _she_ was.

“Why do you care about upsetting Charlie?” Jason spat back. General Monroe had never shown to give a damn about hurting anyone – even those closest to him.

Bass lifted his shirt to show the entry wound the elder Neville had inflicted. “I just took a bullet for her, kid. What do you think?” That got the Jason’s attention. “And what I want to know is why wasn’t that bullet aimed for me in the first place? I get why your dad would shoot me. He’s working for the patriots and was ordered to, plus we’ve got a lot of bad blood between us. He had a clear shot, so why did he expect you to take it? And why did he decide to shoot Charlie instead?”

Jason sat quietly for several minutes while Bass waited for him to respond. The fact was, he didn’t quite understand why things went down the way they had. “I don’t know why he expected me to be the one to finish the job.”

Bass narrowed his eyes at Jason, reading him. He realized then that Jason was telling the truth. “Why did he want to shoot Charlie?” This was the question that Bass really cared about. It had nothing to do with strategy or their plans against the Patriots, but he needed to understand.

“Because I didn’t take that shot.” Jason finally said. “It didn’t take much to figure out Charlie had snuck out to see you. We already knew you were working with Miles, so I could think of only one reason why. She still means something to me. She was the reason I defected from the Militia in the first place. It pissed him off, so he must have tried to take her out of the equation.”

Bass didn’t speak for several long minutes. He finally pulled a knife out of his boot and stood up. He walked around Jason slowly and approached him from behind. Jason closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the attack that would end his life any minute. Bass leaned in close. “She’s not for you anymore,” he whispered as he cut the ropes binding Jason’s hands. Bass made sure to not damage the ropes that kept Jason bound to the chair. He couldn’t have him trying to escape yet.

Jason simply blinked at his captor, confused. Bass reached into his jacket, pulling out the newspaper Duncan had brought to them the day before. “You need to read this,” he said, thrusting the newspaper in Jason’s face. Jason reached up and tentatively took the paper from him.

As he read the article and saw the picture, Jason shook his head in disbelieve. “Where did you get this? How did you get this picture? This can’t be real.”

Bass sat down again, feeling kind of sorry for Jason now. He waited in silence for a while. He could tell the moment that Jason finally accepted the article as truth. “Face it kid, your parents sold you out. You had to know deep down they would. And they’ll probably sell each out in the end too.” He let his words sink in before he rose once more. He knew now that Jason would no longer be a problem. He had him the second the kid accepted his parents’ betrayals.

He walked over and cut the rest of the ropes before poking his head out of the tent. He motioned for Miles who was waiting for Bass to finish his interrogation several feet away. “He’s ready to talk. Go easy on him. It isn’t every day you find out the people closest to you just stabbed you in the back.” Bass added the last part meaningfully. This he could empathize with. Miles entered the tent as Bass walked off. He’d done his part. He’d found out what he needed to know most and he broke the kid. Miles could do the rest.

While Miles talked to Jason, Bass headed to the tent he and Charlie would now share. Between the ride to the camp this morning and Jason’s interrogation, he was exhausted. He still wasn’t at a hundred percent yet. He flopped down on the cot and flung an arm over his eyes, blocking out what little light there was. He was almost asleep when Charlie’s voice broke the silence. “You’re boots are getting dirt all over the blanket.” He chuckled at her complaint, although he had no intention of moving let alone taking off his boots. “Scoot,” she ordered him.

Bass grumbled under his breath about now having to share his space, but he moved over to give her room all the same. The crook of his arm still blocked his eyes, but she could still see the smile on his face as Charlie lay down next to him. She curled into his side as he rolled over. Bass flopped one arm and leg over her as he nuzzled the back of her neck. She could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady against her back.

Charlie sighed in contentment as she wiggled her bottom trying to get closer. “Hold still,” Bass grumbled, slapping her playfully on the hip. “Tired... And Miles will come when he’s done talking to Jason. I’d rather not be interrupted.”

Charlie pouted for a few minutes before she finally asked her what was on her mind. “What happened?”

Bass pushed himself up on one elbow and leaned over to look at her. “Charlie, I didn’t – “

Holding a finger to his lips, she interrupted him, “I know you didn’t. You wouldn’t, you aren’t _him_ anymore.”

Bass lay back down and pulled her close once again. “He told me why his father tried to shoot you.”

“Why?” Charlie hadn’t been able to figure that out any more than Bass had.

“Because Jason didn’t take the shot. He said he’d figured out there was something going on between us, and he didn’t want to hurt you by killing me.”

Charlie thought about this. Maybe Jason wasn’t just his father’s thug after all. “How did you get him to agree to talk to Miles?”

Bass ran one hand up and down her arm gently as he explained about the newspaper from Austin that Duncan’s man had found. “I had to show him that his parents screwed him over and lied to him. That and I set him free.”

“You let him go?” Charlie’s voice was filled with alarm.

Bass wrapped his arm back around her, squeezing her tightly to him. “He won’t try to hurt me now.” Charlie turned her head and he leaned over to kiss her apprehension away. Knowing Miles could find them any minute, he laid his head back down, keeping her close as he dozed off. It was well past dark when he awoke. Charlie was still there sleeping next to him contentedly. Carefully, Bass unraveled his limbs from hers and did his best to get up without disturbing her. He left the tent quietly in search of Miles.

He found his former best friend sitting near a fire near the edge of camp, bottle in hand. Bass sat down to join him, quickly swiping the bottle and taking a swig before Miles had a chance to protest. “I thought you were going to come get me when you were done with Jason.”

Miles rolled his eyes as he yanked the bottle out of Bass’ hands. “I did, but you looked so cute taking your little nap, I just couldn’t bear to wake you,” Miles ground out. The sight of the two of them lying there so intimately had disturbed Miles. It was almost domestic, which was a strange light to see Bass in. Miles had been trying to drink the image away ever since.

Bass caught his meaning but refused to acknowledge it. “So what did Jason have to say?”

Miles took another drink before continuing. “Truman must have sent word to Washington somehow that you were still alive. I guess in hindsight we should have hidden you when we captured him. The Patriots had caught Jason snooping around Doyle’s office, trying to figure out what they were up to. As far as he knew, Julia and Tom had gotten caught trying to get him out of custody.” Miles went on to explain about the orders to kill Bass and the threat to Julia’s life should they fail. It seemed that the Patriots were worried about how Texas would react to news of Bass’ continued good health.

Bass thought about all of this for a while. “So Julia set Tom up, and then Tom set Jason up. And people think our little family is messed up.” It was almost strange to talk about the Monroes and Mathesons as one family after everything that had happened between them, but it was true to Bass none the less.

Miles laughed at that before growing serious again. “Jason is pretty confident that Tom knows about the entire clan being here. Doyle will send a regiment to confront us. Probably sooner than later.” He handed the bottle over to Bass.

Bass took a long drink before handing it back. “Well that gives us two options: Pack up and keep moving or make a stand.”

Miles nodded. “I’ve already talked to Duncan. We might as well make a stand here, Bass. We can run. And maybe we could have gotten Texas involved by convincing Carver that you’re still alive for a reason. But, the fact is, we’ll never get to Austin now. The Patriots will expect that move, and will do what they can to stop it.”

“Well I guess we’d better get ready then.” Bass said, standing. He wanted to get back before Charlie woke and found him missing. Tomorrow would be soon enough to fill her in. If they were going to be facing the Patriots any time soon, he needed to get himself back to fighting condition. He needed the rest.

“Bass, wait a second.” Miles called after Bass as he started to walk back.

Dreading the conversation to come, Bass sat back down with a sigh. “What is it, Miles?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Now about you and Charlie…” Miles began.

Bass shook his head as he picked up Miles’ bottle. “Do you really think we should be having this conversation right now?”

Miles wrenched his bottle back before Bass had a chance to take a drink. He’d be damned if Bass was going to take his niece and his whiskey. “Nope, but we’re gonna. I’ve just got one question. Why Charlie?”

“Why Rachel?” Bass shot back. He saw Miles flinch, and instantly felt bad. “It wasn’t to get back at you and Rachel, if that’s what you’re thinking. It just sort of ended up this way. I tried to stay away from her, Miles. Especially after she –" He cut himself off then, and shook the memory of that night in New Vegas out of his mind.

“After she what?” Miles asked, suspicious.

“It doesn’t matter. We both said things, and when we got back I left. But she wasn’t any happier with that arrangement than I was apparently, so she followed me. And I’ve told her repeatedly that this isn’t going to end well. But she inherited her stubbornness from Rachel.” Bass looked at Miles meaningfully. “Miles, I can’t walk away from her again, so don’t bother asking me to.”

Miles took a few more drinks, thinking about what Bass said. He hated this, but with everything that loomed ahead of him, maybe it was for the best. He nodded to Bass as he handed the bottle back to him, a symbol of his understanding. “I need you to promise me something.”

Bass looked at him, skeptical. Miles wasn’t the touchy feely type. That had always been him. Bass was the likeable emotional one; Miles was the cranky, stoic one. Before their falling out, this had always worked well for them – it had balanced them out. For Miles to suddenly start talking like this now, it was almost like an omen for the things to come. “Okay,” he said, sighing deeply.

“When the fighting starts, you have to watch her back. Protect her,” Miles said with an edge of desperation in his voice.

“Why would you even have to ask that, Miles? It goes without saying. I took a bullet for her, didn’t I?” Bass said. He was slightly insulted. How could Miles still question his willingness to take care of Charlie after that? _Does he still think so little of me?_ He thought to himself.

“I wasn’t done. If things go south, you have to promise me you’ll get her out, no matter what else happens,” Miles practically begged.

Bass took a drink, slightly uncomfortable with where Miles was headed with this. “You want me to run?”

“No. I want you to keep her safe for me, even if it means you have to drag her away from the fight.” Miles put a hand on Bass’ shoulder, a subtle reminder of the brotherhood they’d once shared.

Bass dragged a hand through his hair. They both knew that the odds of them surviving the coming battle were slim, even with Duncan’s clan fighting beside them. “Okay, Miles. I’ll do it. I promise.”

Miles looked away from him now, content with his answer. “Thank you.” Bass nodded as he rose and walked back to his tent. Charlie still slept. He scooted her over and joined her in the bed. Charlie stirred, but didn’t wake up. Bass laid there holding her, knowing sleep would be a long time coming now.

Over the next several days, they made their preparations for the Patriots. A few raiding parties had managed to score a limited supply of ammunition. Miles, Bass and Duncan were still worried that it wouldn’t be enough. Ammo had been very hard to come by over the past several years. It seemed that the Patriots however had an unlimited supply. While the various Militias, warclans and fledgling governments had been going through round after round, fighting for supremacy, the Patriots had simply stockpiled as much as they could while they were en exile at Guantanamo.

Like other warclans on the plains, Duncan’s clan had become adept at hand to hand combat and using bows, but against military issue rifles, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Once they ran through their low supply, it would only be a matter of time before they were overrun.

The attack came a week later, just before dusk. They’d had only a few hours to prepare. A scout had come racing back to report the Patriot’s advance. They abandoned the camp quickly, taking cover in the trees, hoping to maintain at least some element of surprise. Bass stayed practically glued to Charlie’s side as they waited. The rest of her family, Connor and Jason waited beside them. Miles leaned over Bass’ shoulder. “Remember your promise,” He whispered. Bass nodded in response. No other words were needed.

Gene had remained at the farmhouse they’d used as a temporary hospital for Bass. He’d wanted to fight alongside them, but his skills as a doctor would be needed. A scout had arrived with a message from Miles: Prepare for casualties and have the horses ready. After quickly turning the kitchen table into a makeshift operating table, he saddled the four horses. If a quick getaway was needed, the wagon would only slow them down. He did his best to pack as many supplies as possible and put them in the barn as well, just in case.

When the patriots finally arrived, chaos broke out, the clansmen burst out of the trees and the fighting ensued. As the patriots fell, their guns and ammo were taken and turned against them. At Bass’ insistence, Charlie stuck to the trees, firing one bolt after another until her supply had been exhausted. Bass took down as many as he could from afar, refusing to leave her side. He’d always been an excellent marksman, so he was as effective here as anywhere, until the ammo finally ran out.

Charlie ran out into the middle of the action, desperate to get her hands on one of the fallen patriot’s rifles. “Dammit,” Bass muttered as he ran after her with his sword in one hand and the empty rifle in the other. As a patriot approached him, he used the butt of the rifle as a club. The hit distracted the soldier long enough for Bass to slash at him with his sword. As the man fell, Bass grabbed the weapon out of his hand. Charlie had gotten her hands on a loaded rifle and was shooting now as well.

At first it seemed like their ragtag army was gaining ground, but before they knew what was happening, a second regiment approached from their left flank, cutting them off on one side. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion for Bass. As he fought and protected Charlie, he surveyed the battlefield around him. Duncan’s men fought hard, but they were falling. He knew then that the end had come. There was no way they could win this. He saw Connor fighting his way towards them, his face bruised and bloody.

“Where are the others?” Bass asked as he turned to shoot another patriot before he could get to close.

Connor looked around as he loaded his last clip into the rifle. “They were right behind me a second ago.” He paused for a second before he continued. “Dad, Duncan is dead.”

Bass looked at him for a second before shooting again. He nodded in understanding. Their relationship had ended on a slightly sour note, but they had been friends a long time. He still cared about her. From what he could tell, less than a quarter of Duncan’s men remained standing. “We have to fall back. Get word to Miles.” He turned to Charlie then. “Charlie, we’ve gotta go. It’s over.”

Connor turned to do as his father asked, he saw Rachel and Miles surrounded. He grabbed Bass’ arm to get his attention. Both he and Charlie looked and saw her mother disappear within a circle of patriot soldiers. “No!” She cried, and turned to run towards her family.

Bass grabbed Charlie by the waist and pulled her away. “Dad, what are you doing?” Connor shouted as Bass struggled to get Charlie under control.

“What I promised Miles I would do. It’s time to go, Connor.” Bass threw Charlie into a fireman’s carry, kicking and screaming. He ducked for cover as a barrage of bullets came their way. When he looked up, Connor was nowhere to be seen. With tears in his eyes, he picked Charlie back up, grabbed his rifle and ran, shooting anyone that got in his way as they went. There was nothing he could do for the others. Not if he was going to get her out of there alive.

He ran as fast as he could through the woods, slowing only a little when he was sure he was not being followed. At some point, Charlie given up her struggles and pleas to get him to turn back, and had gone limp over his shoulder. When he arrived back at the farmhouse, Gene rushed out to greet him. “Grab whatever you can, Gramps. We’ve got to get out of here now.”

Gene shook his head, not understanding. “What about the others, the wounded?”

Bass sat Charlie down on the porch. She huddled there against the house in total shock as he bent over to catch his breath. “You don’t get it. There are no wounded, are no others. As far as I know, we’re all that’s left. Get what you need, we’re leaving.” Gene hesitated, looking down at Charlie. “Gene, go, before the patriots find us.”

While Gene went to the house to grab the medical supplies he’d laid out, Bass picked Charlie up gently in his arms and carried her to the barn. He set her down carefully on a pile of straw and started bringing the horses out of their stalls. Since Gene had them saddled and ready, there was little to do. Bass removed the saddle from one of the horses, replacing it with the bags of food and other supplies Gene had left in the barn. With only three of them left, the fourth horse could carry almost everything else they had. Gene rushed into the barn with his medical bag a few minutes later.

Bass didn’t trust Charlie not to ride back out to the battle field, despite her dazed demeanor. He helped her into a saddle and then quickly mounted the horse behind her, grabbing the reins. Bass and Gene each grabbed the lead for one of the other two horses, and they took off into the night.

They rode for hours, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the patriots as possible. They only stopped when Gene pointed out that Bass looked like he was about to fall out of the saddle with exhaustion. They found what used to be a farm that looked abandoned enough for their purposes. The fields were heavily overgrown. An old granary was all that stood on the site. The destruction around them suggested to Bass that the other buildings had been the unfortunate victims of a Texan twister.

The overhang on the buildings provided at least a little shelter for the horses, even if it didn’t conceal them well from passersby. But there was no way they could continue any further. They’d just have to chance it. While Gene tied the horses up, Bass took a look inside. The granary seemed stable enough and at least it was shelter. The water pump on the side of the building proved to be still in working condition. Picking Charlie up from where she sat, still unmoving, he carried her inside. Gene followed a short while later after seeing to the horses. He left the door open only enough to let in a little light and allow them to keep an eye on the animals.

Bass sat leaning up against the wall with Charlie sitting across his lap, stroking her back gently. He was worried about her. She hadn’t said a word to her since they’d made their escape from the battlefield. Suddenly, she began to sob. Loud, pain-filled wails filled the granary as he held onto her. She leaned away from him and began to pummel him in the chest, calling him a bastard, a coward, telling him she hated him for abandoning her family. As she grew more hysterical the insults continued to fly at him. Her words stung. But, at the same time he understood that she didn’t mean them. She was in shock and angry. More than likely she wouldn’t even remember it later.

The screaming abruptly ended as quickly as it started. Charlie reverted back to clinging to him, crying softly. He felt his own tears finally fall, lost in his own grief. They sat that way for hours before they finally fell asleep.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This covers what happened over the next several years with mostly Bass & Charlie. It ranges from uber angsty to super fluffy. Warning: there will be some Major Character Deaths confirmed.

_Epilogue:_

Thoughts of what happened to Connor, Miles and Rachel haunted Bass every day. He knew that it was unlikely they had survived, but he still had to hold on to a small glimmer of hope. That hope along with his determination to keep Charlie and Gene alive were the only things that kept Bass from sliding into a total depression. That same survivor’s guilt that had plagued him after the loss of his family and Shelly always seemed to loom on the horizon, and it took all of his willpower to keep those morbid thoughts at bay. He constantly had to remind himself that he did not run from the battle to save his own skin. He had done so to fulfill his last promise to Miles: If the end was near, get Charlie out, keep her safe. She was what mattered.

And, Bass did his best to make good on that promise. The way he saw it, there were only two options: Head north through Canada or down to South America. In the end, South America wasn’t much of an option. They would have to make it across a well-guarded border. With a treaty between Mexico and the Patriots on the horizon it would simply be too dangerous. Not to mention the laundry list of diseases that had been problematic south of the equator even before the blackout. No, life in the north may be harsh, but it was preferable to Malaria and Yellow Fever.

Despite his every instinct to fight at the first sign of trouble, whenever they came across Patriot activity they hid or ran. The going was slow, but Gene was pushing seventy. He simply couldn’t handle a fast pace and life out in the elements. It was very possible that Gene was now Charlie’s only living blood relative. Bass was determined that he would make it north with them. Their pace slowed further when Charlie began to show signs of pregnancy a few months later. It was Gene that finally figured it out, although Bass had had his suspicions.

Charlie’s condition and Gene’s age forced them to keep closer to civilization than he liked, but they simply had no choice. They changed names with every town, never staying for longer than a day or two. Bass did risk leaving a message where he could for Miles, in case he’d survived. Occasionally, he left a notice if a town they passed had a bulletin board. Or, if there was a bar in town, he’d leave a hastily written note with the bartender, always giving a few diamonds as a small bribe to hold on to it. The messages he left were always addressed to “Stumpy”, and they always were always just vague enough to keep anyone other than Miles from understanding. The patriots did know the ridiculous alias Miles had used, but even if they found the notes, they wouldn’t be able read them. They just didn’t speak Miles/Bass.

They made it into California without incident, only to learn that the Patriots had been slowly advancing. They learned that Texas had eventually crumbled completely to the Patriots. And, as disorganized as the tribes in the Plains Nation had been it was soon to follow. The wastelands were of no consequence. Without electricity, very few had remained behind, hence the name they’d been given. Citizens of the Plains and the sparse population of the Wastelands had welcomed the Patriots with welcome arms.

They made it as far as Vancouver before they were forced to stop because of Charlie’s pregnancy. It was only mid-June, but she would be due in a few months. The journey from Vancouver to Alaska would take half a year, and after what happened to Shelly, Bass was not willing to risk being in the middle of nowhere when she gave birth. It was also to travel with an infant when the weather turned, which could happen quite early this far north. It was the middle of August when Gene helped Charlie to deliver a small but healthy daughter into the world. His daughter.

They settled on the name Rachel Gail, after the baby’s grandmothers, both of whom she would never meet. The child’s birth helped to heal somewhat the burden of grief that all three of them carried. Although she was born a few weeks early, baby Rachel grew quickly and was strong. Bass and Charlie both loved her to distraction, and her great-grandfather doted on her. Her presence tightened the bonds that held their small family together.

They waited until early March before joining a caravan north. They never stayed with a group very long. They would travel a few hundred miles before staying in one small town or another. At times, they would wait two or three weeks before they were able to move on. Canada seemed to have escaped many of the problems that had surfaced after the blackout in the former United States. Although communication between towns was often limited, most of the towns they stayed in did have some semblance of a post office. For the most part, these were just simple buildings where for a price, one could leave a message for a later traveler. The likelihood of these messages reaching Miles was greater than the ones he’d left further south, so Bass began to address them to Stu Redman.

They were halfway to Juneau before they finally stopped seeing an occasional wanted poster bearing his name. Still, with every caravan, they would change names again. In their travels, Gene was their saving grace. Most groups that came through would have denied taking a family with a small child along, however Gene’s status as a doctor ensured that they were welcomed and in most cases, well fed. Bass and Charlie were both adept at hunting, and would take turns looking for game in exchange for their passage as well.

It was late fall before they finally reached their destination. Because of the remoteness, none of Bass’ sins seemed to have followed him. There was little news over the past fifteen years from the former lower 48. Life here was slower. After a lengthy discussion and quite a bit of arguing Charlie’s part, they finally decided it was safe to use their real names. It was exhausting having to come up with a new identity with each town. Although Alaskan oil was reason enough before the blackout for the land to hold importance, to the Patriots it was now worthless. The risk of anyone causing problems for them was minimal.

The government that had formed out of the post-blackout years was limited to local authorities. Bass had chosen their destination well. As it was coastal, Juneau did not experience temperatures as cold as the rest of the north, although the extremely short days in the winter and seemingly endless ones in the summer would indeed take some getting used to. The people in Juneau did seem cautious of their arrival at first due to problems they’d had with bandits of late. They had only been in town for a few weeks when an attack on the town occurred.

Bass volunteered with the local sheriff to help. Old habits die hard, and if there was one thing he was good at, it was fighting. After this, the locals seemed a lot more welcoming. The Sheriff pulled him aside and offered him a job. Between the salary he earned as a deputy and the goods Gene received for his services as a much needed doctor, they were able to ensure they wouldn’t starve their first winter.

They were also able to afford a house with enough room to expand their family, which was a relief when Charlie discovered she was pregnant again right after Christmas. This news spurred Bass to finally make an honest woman out of her, and he married her before New Year’s. Their second child was a son named Miles William. History seemed to repeat itself, as their son did not share the same robust health as his older sister.

And so life went on for their family, with good times giving way to bad times, which in turn gave way to happier ones once again. They lost Baby Miles shortly before his first birthday. The loss was almost too much for Bass to bear. He’d disappeared for a week after the funeral, coming home smelling of whiskey, perfume and regret. The suit he’d worn to Miles’ funeral was torn and filthy. His knuckles were covered in cuts and bruises.

She had a good idea that he’d spent the week in the shanty-town on the outskirts of Juneau that served as Alaska’s own New Vegas. More than likely he’d spent the week whoring, fighting and drinking himself stupid. Still, after a few weeks of resentment, Charlie forgave him all the same. She understood that for him, it was like losing the man her son was named for and Connor all over again, at the same time. Slowly, their relationship healed, only to be brought closer by another child, another son. This one they’d named Daniel Benjamin.

It had been five years since that final battle. Charlie had gone to town with Rachel for the shopping. It was Bass’ day off so he’d stayed home to care for the baby and for Gene, whose health was failing with age and dementia. Shortly after Charlie arrived home, a knock came to the door. Always still a little cautious, even after all these years, he pulled a pistol out of its case on the mantle. Holding it cocked and ready behind his back, he slowly opened the door to reveal a face he’d never thought to see again. He stood there in shock. “Who’s at the door?” Charlie called as she approached him from behind.

“Well are you going to let me in, or are you just going to stare at me all day?”

Hearing the voice, Charlie all but shoved her husband out of the way to get to it. There stood Miles, looking decidedly older and definitely hung over. She ran out to give him a hug. As she pulled back from him, she realized that only one of his arms had come around her. She and Bass both took a step back to allow him in. Looking him up and down, they noticed that one arm of his coat was pinned up, empty. But still, he was here and alive. Taking the pistol from Bass and returning it to its home on the mantle, Charlie gave her husband a few moments alone. Recovering from his shock, Bass reached forward to give Miles a hug himself, in awe that his friend, his brother was alive and really here.

A voice from outside followed. “Jesus Christ, Miles! What, am I your stable boy now? Get your ass out here and help me with these horses.”

 _It can’t be…_ Bass thought to himself. Taking an uneasy step forward, he stood on the porch, coming face to face with Connor. With tears in his eyes, he embraced his son, who stood before him alive, well and not quite the punk he’d last seen.

Charlie having recovered herself went outside to usher them all in, berating all three men for letting out the heat, despite the fact that it was late spring and unseasonably warm out that afternoon. Patting his son on the shoulder, Bass led him inside. Miles was overjoyed to meet his great niece and nephew. Even Connor played with his half-siblings for a while after they’d finished their evening meal.

Miles had been shocked at the changes in Gene, but having just completing the journey north he know that between that and his age, he was lucky to still be around. Bass left Charlie to catch up with Miles and put the children to bed himself before coming down to join them and share news over what exactly had transpired. He wrapped his arms around Charlie as she sobbed when Miles confirmed that Rachel had not survived the final battle in Willoughby. Although they had long grieved for their missing family members, hearing it from the lips of those they’d thought were dead brought it all back just a little. Gene, lost in his own mind didn’t quite understand. When Mile’s started to repeat the tale to Gene, Bass stopped him. He thought it best that it be left this way. It was assumed he had Alzheimer’s and he spent more time than not unaware of what was going on around him.

Bass and Charlie learned that it had taken a while for Miles to recover from the loss of his arm. After Rachel had fallen alongside Duncan Page and most of her men, Miles had been shot as those who remained tried to fall back. Jason Neville and Connor had drug him to safety before Jason too was killed by a stray bullet. Connor had been able to get Miles help, but the result was the loss of his left arm. They’d gone into hiding for months before moving on into the Wastelands. It was by coincidence when they were in a bar in former Wyoming that Connor just happened to call Miles Stumpy. The bartender had overheard them and had approached with a note. Miles recognized Bass’ handwriting instantly. They had slowly then been following the trail north, but between the patriots and a bout with pneumonia that Connor had suffered, it had taken all this time for them to finally make it here.

Miles and Connor stayed the night, with plans on each getting their own places to stay for a short while. But, spending one night turned into two, and eventually talk of them moving on faded. Miles chose to stay with Charlie and Bass to help with Gene while Connor eventually found himself a place in town and work as well.

They buried Gene the following spring. And, two years later, when the Sheriff died of a heart attack, the job was given to Bass. All in all despite their losses, they each kept going and eked out a life for themselves in Juneau. Miles remained the snarky but loveable functioning alcoholic he’d always been and helped Bass keep the streets of Juneau a little safer. One armed or not, he could still shoot straight and wield a sword with the best of them. Connor eventually settled down and had a family of his own. Life wasn’t the glamor of owning a country, but he seemed to have calmed down as he’d matured and didn’t seem to mind the slower pace of family life.

One night when they went to bed, Charlie turned to a sated and sleepy Bass and whispered in his ear, “Told you so,” was all she said. She fell asleep with his laughter ringing in her ears.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super huge thank you to anyone who has taken the time to read, kudos and/or comment on this story. Thanks again!


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